The Oathkeepers
by Ultimanium
Summary: A Tarutaru wanders afar to escape his mage blood. Fortunately, Bastok, and the powers that be, will be more than happy to beat it out of him. So begins the story of the Oathkeepers...
1. Less Than Magical

Bushes rustled. 

Tumbleweeds continued on their way.

Lizards mulled around as they always had.

Off in the distance, a towering stone structure continued to spew out smoke, debris, and the deafening blasts of the forges beneath. Like other things, it had simply become part of the landscape. No one questioned the dull metal cacophony, either the sparse wildlife, or the people that lived five feet from it. That was Bastok. People simply learned to accept the fact that raw industry was what brought the nation to its competitive state with the older regimes of the world for control of a vast world. And, those people were the ones that would help it stay that way. Most of them, anyways.

Grawp sat hunched over the iron desk, its legs rusted from years of misuse. The Galka leant forward, struggling to grasp and flip the pages of a small book with his hulking fingers. Another crash tore through the small room, causing him to drop it. Grumbling, he fell back in his chair, glancing over as the heavy metal double doors on the far side of the room creaked open. A pair of dirtied, lightly-dressed Humes stumbled out, dragging toolboxes with them.

"Are you done!" Grawp yelled.

"I don't know, are you dumb!"

"Are you DONE!"

"Yeah!"

"Then get out!"

"What? We're not out yet!"

"GET out!"

"About? No, I said we're done!"

"Just scra-" Grawp paused as the roaring around them pitched up again. "...PACK YOUR THINGS UP AND LEAVE!"

"Okay, okay, just coulda said so." Both men hoisted their tools over their shoulders and left via the doors on the other side of the small chamber. The doors fell shut again with a loud crash, causing the telltale anvil-emblemed Smithing Guild sign on it to fall off. Grawp sighed, leaning back again and seizing his novel. Quickly covering his face with it, he started to focus again on the words in front of him.

A barely-noticable knock came from the other side of the entrance. "We're not open." Grawp barked.

To no avail, the door slowly opened once again. Grawp growled to himself, looking over to see who his visitor was this time. The door cracked open, and slowly he squeezed through. Grawp pushed himself to his feet. "We're NOT OP-" He suddenly closed his mouth, blinking.

"...not open?"

In front of the desk stood a standard-issue Tarutaru - 3 feet, dressed in simple, worn green clothing designed more for loafing than adventuring/traveling of any sort. Blinking his hazel eyes, he scratched through his similarly-brown hair as he examined a pamphlet in his other hand. "Smithing guild."

Grawp sat back down. "Sororo's Scribery isn't in this building. Exit this building, take a left, and..."

The halfling grinned ear to ear, nodding "..'kay, I got the right place then! You can help me out, right?"

"Listen, we don't sell scrolls here, we beat metal until it gets in the right shape. Now scram." Grawp grunted, holding his book up to his face again.

"I don't want a freaking spell." the customer replied in a similarly-annoyed tone.

Grawp sighed. "So tell me what a little runt like you is doing here. Need some metal reagents for your little magic show?"

"I get enough crap like this on the road. I'm just looking for somewhere to temper a sword, and hopefully get some more practical education in smithing under my belt."

Grawp glanced down, chuckling. "...really."

"My name is Blitzen, I'd like to join your smithing guild for the time being."

"...hah." Grawp paused, reading his book for another moment before falling back in his chair. "...AHA! HAHAH! HAHAHAH! HAH... heh... ah, what's this now, you'd like to join our fine smithing crew, son? Come back when you ditch the 90 body fat, and by that, I mean obtaining muscle mass of over a gram."

Grawp nearly fell backwards as Blitzen reached up, slamming a large, wide-bladed bastard sword down onto the desk, causing the surface to buckle. Grawp ran his fingers over the keen-edged blade, which was easily longer than the Taru was tall. "I'll say it again. You let me use your forge for an hour tops, and I'll SHOW you exactly where my muscle mass is."

"And where in high hell did you obtain that, might I ask?" Grawp growled. "Weapons like that are not meant to be leant out."

Blitzen pointed at the blade again, his lips firmly following his words. "Mine." He lifted it off the table, effortlessly sliding it back into a sheath on his back.

"Swingin' around a big heavy blade is one thing, knowing how to use it is another, and tempering it is yet another matter entirely." he stood from his chair, following Blitzen as he marched to the door in the back. Blitzen hurled the door open, stepping into the orange mists beyond. Grawp followed cautiously. They both descended the stairs that lead down to the floors of the workshop beneath. Several furnaces were still lit from previous activity.

"Thought you were closed." Blitzen said cooly, grabbing a vastly-oversized air mask off the ground.

"There's always a bunch of guild members that wanna craft crap of their own in their spare time... lunatics." Grawp spat. He followed Blitzen up to the nearest furnace, donning a face protector of his own. "Don't get me wrong here, I intend fully to kick your scrawny little behind out of here when you're done, but I'm a little intrigued to see exactly how you intend to mend a sword with those baby hands of yours."

"Done and done." Blitzen snarled in response, jabbing the sword deep into one of the furnace's orifices, holding it as the fires crackled below.

Grawp continued to watch. This is ridiculous... he's not even using mitts! Or tongs, for that matter! Would do the little freak good and ignite himself, It's not like this place is gonna burn down... "A'right, you're taking too long, you gotta take the sword out and begin tempering for a bit..."

"I know what I'm doing." Blitzen dropped the sword down onto the closest anvil, climbing on top to grab a hammer from the rack of tools directly above it. He shot a glance back to Grawp. All at once, his expression took a 180 - and with a disturbingly happy grin, he wound up and took a great pound at the sword, causing sparks to fly in all directions. Grawp could do nothing else but stare in disbelief as Blitzen strategically wailed at the weapon, its shape already becoming noticably stable.

The dancing fires and rythmical crashing of metal didn't impress the veteran blacksmith by any means.

But today, he could do nothing but stare on in amazement.

* * *

Blitzen leant forward onto the sword, brushing his brow. The sword had been blessed with new life. What nicks had been in its sides had vanished, and the sword itself gleamed with what little light the lamp on the celing of Grawp's office generated.

Grawp leant his chin on his hand, continuing to look the weapon up and down for any remaining imperfections. "...I don't really know what to say. What you've done here is quite impressive."

"I aim to please." Blitzen sighed. He pulled up a chair to Grawp's desk, leaning the blade against it as he climbed up to sit down. "...well, anyways, how'd I manage?"

"You say you came here to seek education in the ways of smithing... but you already seem quite adept at it. Nowhere near as so as me or some of our more religious members, but I am surprised. But... I'm still seriously wondering, why is it that-"

"Why are you talking to a Tarutaru smith." Blitzen nodded.

"...well, I was wondering a little, yes..." Grawp folded his hands. "...I can't say I haven't seen a display of any sort of strength of Tarutaru hands in recent history... you've seriously come to this guild to focus on bettering your smithing?"

"Well, yeah," Blitzen ran a hand through his ruffled hair. "...you know, I was hoping I could become a guild contributor... I heard there's a lot of metalworkers in Bastok, and demand for more, and I'd like some experience before I go looking for some serious employment..."

Grawp frowned. "Well, there is a big demand for talented metalworkers for construction projects and processing of ore mined here, yes, but... I can't help asking... wouldn't it be a lot easier on a Tarutaru to find employment in Bastok's research guilds? I hear they're always looking for people to help with scribing and deciphering texts, and mage recruitment in the military in the past weeks has been steeping lower than even in San d'Or-"

"No." Blitzen said firmly.

Grawp twitched. "...I don't understand."

"No magic." Blitzen repeated. "I came here with a sword for a reason. A sword is what I wield. If that's not orthodox enough for you, I can just leave right now."

"You are truly strange." Grawp shook his head. "Now you're a Tarutaru and you aren't gonna give me some fireworks, eh?" he reached over, nudging Blitzen's shoulder - he was forced back as Blitzen shoved his arm away in a surprising display of strength. "...uh.. yeah.. anyways, I'll tell you what... if you'd like an apprenticeship here that badly, you come back here tomorrow, and I'll introduce you to some of the guys, and maybe we can get you started on some batch copper jobs, how about that? Start off easy for now and we'll bump you up to full capacity in a bit? You're gonna make some money and learn the ropes at the same time?"

"I'd like that." Blitzen smiled.

"Alright, run along now, runt." Grawp laughed. "We'll beat you into in shape... moreso."

Blitzen nodded, bundling up his sword. Grawp grinned as he went back to idling.

Who knows, this one might be different.

* * *

"A week and two days have passed," Blitzen said to himself smugly. Reaching up, he pulled his green-tinted goggles into place, marching out into the open workshop. Tugging his signature dull-brown apron into place, he made his way over to his appointed furnace. A galka nodded to him as he passed by, which Blitzen returned. "...I think everyone here has gotten over the fact that they're working with a Tarutaru... I'm pretty certain everyone here has gotten some sort of glimpse at the kind of smithing I do, and I don't get any of the 'just make one with magic' crap that I was expecting... and whenever someone argues, I just show 'em Big Bertha."

Blitzen strolled into the subchamber, the red mist suddenly densening. He glanced to the sword that hung from its sheath on the wall, still shining as bright as ever. As he moved to his assigned hole in the massive oven, he waved to the Hume and the Elvaan that shared his station. He picked up a nearby clipboard, reviewing the raw material orders for that day. "So what's up for this shift?"

The Hume wheezed as he shoved in a massive metal plunger on the side of the furnace, forcing air into it. "...we've already managed to finish our first order, we've got 80 copper bars, 40 bronze and 20 iron on the outgoing pallet, but I asked Grawp and it looks like our third order's been cancelled, so we just gotta finish up this set of iron and we'll be outta here."

"Nifty." Blitzen paused, staring into the nova-white light within the stone chamber. "We should be able to wrap this up in an hour then..." he lifted up a small cart of ore, dumping it off a nearby ledge and into a small smelter. "Whatcha guys got planned?"

"Grawp and some of us are hitting the Steaming Sheep after... I hear a lot of guys are finishing up their loads early today, and we got paid besides... you pick up your gil yet?"

"Planning on it, I should be able to pay off my housing now."

"That's not what you're supposed to say," the other Elvaan mumbled. "...hey, I got money, I'm going to hang out with the guys, huh?"

"Really, that's okay," Blitzen sighed. "I kinda need to get home, and... I-I'm not much of a drinker, and-"

"Because you're a Taru, exactly, and you've never done that sort of thing."

"...you could say that."

"Oh, shaddup," the Hume muttered. "You know you're one of the guys by now... you know, it makes me wonder what a Taru would be like smashed out of his mind, let alone one like Blitz."

"Uhh..."

Half of Blitzen was genuinely afraid.

The other was eternally grateful.

* * *

...of course, it never particularly occured to Blitzen that 'Grawp's gonna buy your drinks, newbie' equalled 'Grawp'll buy drinks out of your yet-to-see-your-hands paycheck'. By the time festivities had started, it was too late for Blitzen to back out, if not because his coworkers wouldn't let him, it was the fact that his own money was being thrown to him in the form of single shots and cocktails. Blitzen sat at the table farthest from the bar, tucked behind a second-floor support. Grawp was the only person at his table, as the other two-dozen people began to mingle with both the regular drunkards and a group of unlucky Mithra that had stopped in the last time the Jeunoian airship touched down.

"...meh." Blitzen slurred. "...I've heard the horror stories that start like this, I think I'll lay off the alcohol now... eh, Grawp, I didn't go too overboard, did I..."

"The fact that you asked should give a promising answer," Grawp droned. "But what you DID have, you drank like a fish."

"...meh." Blitzen sighed.

"Okay guys, last round, gimme a sec to prepare this..." one of the more sober smithies placed a wide variety of liquors onto the bar as the silver-haired Elvaan female behind the counter handed them over. One by one he added the drinks to a medium-sized glass. "...one shot of San d'Oria Fine, two of Buburimu Distill, one of rum, and the special ingredient..." he reached into his pocket, unveiling a small eyedropper of pitch-black liquid. "...one drop of slime juice..." he carefully (as carefully as a half-sloshed overworked heavy laborer could, anyways) administered the single drop of machine lubricant to the mixture, which floated harmlessly on top of the drink. "...I would call it the Smokestack, dedicated to Blitzen who is anything but."

Grawp nudged Blitzen. Blitzen twitched. The rest of the restaraunt raised their drinks.

"Now, Blitzen can just light this and he can rest assured that he's gonna be a true smithy of Bastok, that right!"

Blitzen stared at the glass of sickly-purple liquid as it was slammed down on the table in front of him. "...with what?"

"...you know, you got some fire up those sleeves, right?"

"I dunno what you're talking about."

"...uh.. raise your hands... light that fire of yours..."

Blitzen stood up, taking his glass with him. His face suddenly darkened, causing the entire group to go deafeningly quiet. "No. No magic. I don't have any magic. Why the hell can't you people just get that through your thick skulls? I am a smithy, I run around waving a sword, I live in freaking Bastok! Just LEAVE me alone, I'm not going to wiggle my nose and fly around on a broomstick and ignite things from 200 yards away because I happen to be a Tarutaru... the sooner we all understand this, the better, okay!"

"...uh.." A man in the back scratched his head. "...okay, I guess we'll.. keep that in mind."

"Thank you. Let's finish up then." Blitzen sat back down, rubbing his hands against his face as everyone sheepishly went back to their drinks. Grawp reached up, taking a candle out of its holder on the wall and pressing it against Blitzen's glass. The oil on top ignited in a cloud of smoke, leaving the rest of the drink intact.

"...okay, Blitzen..." Grawp said quietly. "...please don't mind me asking, but you seem to get pretty agitated whenever someone brings up the subject of magic... now, we're in a good social setting here... and, er... I just wanna know what about it makes you spaz out like that."

Blitzen remained quiet for a second, before taking a long drink from his glass. He slammed it down again, his long ears stiffening. Coughing and wheezing, he slowly regained his composure. "...alright, normally I'd just tell someone who asked me that to get bent, but to be perfectly honest... now that I've managed to demonstrate my skills in front of people, and those people have accepted me for who I am, I think I'm entitled to talk."

"Shoot." Grawp took Blitzen's unfinished drink, passing it to another barmaid as she collected empty glasses from neighboring tables.

"...as you've probably assumed by now, I've moved to Bastok recently... I don't have a lot to my name, and I was looking for a job that would let me afford some basic necessities, and that I would have been able to hone on the road. The sword I haul around, that was the first thing I bought when I left home, and I've had to spend every last gil I made keeping it in shape... I get attacked on the road a lot."

"So you've seriously foughten with that thing."

"Definately. No such thing as an open road with beastmen on the prowl."

"Hang on." Grawp droned. "...no, you couldn'tve foughten beastmen."

"What if I have? It's not like I provoke every wild animal I came across..."

"I find it incredible that you've foughten beastmen in this state, I mean, you're-"

"Blitzen, you're a Taru, you could never have survived fighting big-ugly-musclebound-battle-hardened-beastman-recruit-number-24153153." Blitzen sighed. "...I had to learn fast, being on the road on my own."

"Where did you come from?"

"Where else?" Blitzen stared at Grawp with sore eyes. "Windurst."

"Windurst." Grawp stared off into space. "Y'know, I was always thinking I'd like to retire there when those fools in Engineering put us out of business with mass-produced cermet." He chuckled, staring back down at the table. "Tell me, what could compel a Tarutaru to move from a quiet, peaceful Windurst where his success in life was virtually guaranteed as long as he could light a fireplace and heal wounds with his mind?"

Blitzen stared at the ground. "...I've always heard... that Bastok was a republic of oppritunity. You know, all that advertising people in the Presidency put out. It was believable, definately - you and I know that this nation rose and thrived on industry alone; military, diplomacy and pride were secondary factors... compared to Windurst, the world is your taco, or something along those lines."

"What do you mean?"

"You know what you thought when you first saw me. Tarutaru, magic, scroll shop is thataway. That's what a lot of people think of Windurst, actually. You have those Mithra making up their own little private suburb, but in the end, Windurst, 5 magic schools, Taru, Taru, Taru, magic, magic, Taru, magic, Taru, etc. In Bastok, people start shops, pursue medicinal studies, study alchemy, mine, turn mined stuff into trinkets, well, on the whole it's just a lot more interesting than Windurst. You know what happens in Windurst? Two Tarutaru fall in love, have children, and those children are going to learn magic, learn it well, and go work for the Star Sybil, 'cause once you work for the Star Sybil, you've got it made, you've made your parents proud, and you've done everything that makes you Tarutaru. It's a vicious cycle."

"So what about that made you leave for Bastok?"

Blitzen glanced to the window. It was getting extremely late, and besides the smoke continuing to spew out of the Metalworks, the sky was perfectly clear. Stars were beginning to flood out. "...I did poorly in magic school."

"...and?"

"When I did poorly in magic school, I was no longer Tarutaru."

"Huh?"

"I was disowned by my parents. All my relatives wanted ME to be the Mastermind of the Millenium, someone who'd blaze through school and play second fiddle to the heroes of old, like the retired professors, the hero summoner, even the Star Sybil herself. Just like every other Taru out there. When my grades fell to the point I was expelled from the academy, I was expelled from the family."

"What happened then?"

"I left for Bastok."

"...wait, how long ago was this!"

"I left Windurst eight years ago. At the age of 13."

Grawp's eyes bugged out. "...when you were forcibly removed from Windurst culture, you left Windurst."

"I looted some valuables from my parents' home and sold them. I knew I was inferior enough to not be able to depend on magic... I needed to make due with a weapon. A powerful weapon, one that wouldn't be magic, or magic in nature."

"You survived on your own, and you trained yourself in the blade in that manner."

"I took odd jobs here and there in towns I came across, but in the end, yeah. I lived by the sword... I've experienced battle... probably more physical pain, labor and hardship in these years than most Tarutaru take in their entire lives... and I've gotten plenty of surprised people like you, some likin' me for it, some not." Blitzen glanced back at Grawp, flashing a toothy grin.

Grawp smiled. "Good to hear. As long as you like Bastok and have found a niche to live upon, that's all that matters. But there's something I'd like to know..."

"What's that?"

"What do you intend to do with your swordsmanship?"

"...eh... I don't know." Blitzen shrugged. "I don't know what I COULD do with it, to be honest..."

"Smithing pays the bills, kid, but to be honest, it ain't the most exciting thing. Or babysitting smithing, for that matter. You know, I think if you hit the right chords you could probably enlist in Bastok's Musketeer forces."

"W-what?" Blitzen stammered. "Okay, it's one thing that a Taru knows how to beat a piece of metal properly, but I really don't think I'm cut out for MILITARY service..."

"Oh, c'mon, think about it, if you've survived on your own for this long, you probably have what it takes to do sentry duty in Bastok... and trust me, the pay and benefits are a hell of a lot better. But, you know, you're always welcome to continue working in the Metalworks, I hear the managers are extremely impressed with your performance to date... might even snag a raise in due time. And considering you've been here a week or so... that's saying something."

"...hm, I'll think about it..." Blitzen stood up. "...for now though, I need some rest. I'll see you tomorrow, Grawp."

Grawp nodded to Blitzen, watching as he left for the door. "...hey, Blitz."

"Yeah?"

"...show me some of that swashbuckling tomorrow... who knows, your audience might be bigger than you think."

Blitzen laughed. "I'll plan on it. Night." he pulled the door open, slipping through it and out into the night.

* * *

Bushes rustled.

Tumbleweeds continued on their way.

Lizards mulled around as they always had.

High above Bastok, a dark-armored Galka stood atop the edge of the Metalworks, his fingers drumming on the stone barrier in front of him. His pale face remained set in stone. Iron Eater, he thought. A fitting name. It didn't seem like biting anything would change the frown engraved on his face. "...come out."

A woman in red-plated armor stepped out of the shadows, assuming very much the same position as Iron Eater. "...you should be getting some sleep."

"Quadav don't sleep." Iron Eater said flatly. "Not since Palborough."

"We are well aware they have continued their tunneling operations since the incident. These recent developments change nothing. They have always had a direct opening to Bastok via the conduits, though the government refuses to acknowledge it. Analysts have already declared it as an expansion, nothing more. They would not risk a direct attack on Bastok."

"I am not out for vengeance like some of my brothers," Iron Eater sighed. "But I do see some cause for concern."

"The Musketeer forces have grown enough in light of foreign power to handle surveillance of the Quadav... for now, we must remain at our posts."

The Galka nodded slowly. "As we have..."

"...since Palborough."

"Since always."

"You seem to doubt the government on a lot of things."

"I cannot voice my opinion." Iron Eater replied.

"Then I shall."

"I don't get my point across very often... being Galka. Many people are discontent with the agenda of the government, being Galka. They are demanding more attention be paid to the workings of the Quadav, and while a lot of their clamoring may be irrationality on behalf of events in the past, they cannot go on being ignored much longer, I'm afraid."

"I would say that I would bring it up with the government, but you hear enough of that, don't you."

"Quite."

"Good night."

"I will see you soon, Ayame."

Iron Eater waited until Ayame had moved away before sighing. "In an age of adventurers, this should not be happening. Maybe it is they that need the attention..."

Blitzen could feel a chill in the air.

* * *

Comments? Queries? Death threats?  
keyvanaugustana.ca Blitzen 73PLD/62MNK Seraph 


	2. The Bigger They Are

_Nanono cringed as she took the blow full force, falling back into the fountain. Slowly prying herself up, she ran her hands through her hair, sifting apart the dull green strands as onlookers continued laughing. The other Tarutaru child lowered his arm, chuckling. "Shame that hair doesn't improve your balance any." more shrill laughter came from the other Tarus around him. "Should be a little more sturdy at least, with all that snot you run through it."_

_The girl was on her feet again, wringing water out of the two bushy pigtails hanging off the sides of her head. She stumbled forward in an attempt to leave the crowd, but was slapped back again._

_"What is the meaning of this!"_

_Everyone began to scatter as a tall Mithra waded through the group, her bright pink, spiked hair remaining still as her similarly-colored lips curled into a furious frown. "What is going on here?"_

_"Professor Lata," Nanono sobbed. "Make them stop."_

_"I thought we went over this already!" the teacher whirled around, sending the rest of the young Tarutaru fleeing for their lives. "There will be no demeaning and putting down of fellow students! If I see any of you going after Nanono again, your parents won't be hearing the end of it!"_

_"My parents don't listen to a professor like you, with no mag-"_

_"GET OUT!"_

_The escape was resumed, leaving Lata able to support Nanono again. "...was this the hair thing again?"_

_"It's always the hair thing." Nanono sighed dejectedly._

_The sun slowly fell behind the stone structure in the distance, and soon behind the line of foilage beyond it - one of many buildings of the famed Windurst School of Magic. Wheezing could be heard as another Taru boy rounded the edge, running to the fountain. As he neared the fountain he tripped, sliding straight to the two in a cloud of dust._

_"I hope you're not here for what I think." Lata yanked him onto his feet. "Blitzen-Aitzen."_

_"Not asking for an assignment extension... what happened to Nanono..."_

_Nanono smiled._

_"So do your parents know how poorly you are doing?" Lata frowned. "Or do you need me to tell them?" She glanced around, Blitzen having already made his way over to Nanono._

_"...ugh." Blitzen poked Nanono._

_"Not looking your prime yourself." Nanono wiped a handful of dirt off Blitzen's forehead._

_"BLITZEN." Lata said firmly. "Where were you today, might I ask?"_

_"Doing something productive, ma'am." Blitzen said dully._

_"I think you MAY have been more productive coming to class and obtaining your test scores. Actually, it would have been even MORE worthwhile to come to class to take the test to begin with. Zero for you, young sir. If you do not bring up your scores soon, you may be in a position where you will fail this grade. Keep that in mind for the future. These events will be reported to your parents, if I can't make you any more enthusiastic about your studies I'm sure they'll find some means."_

_"Yes, ma'am." Blitzen bowed. Lata strided away, deciding what to be more furious at, Blitzen or everyone else. Blitzen grinned, turning back to Nanono. "Whatcha get?"_

_Nanono stared blankly at Blitzen. "92."_

_"Nifty." Blitzen hopped up, seating himself on the edge of the fountain._

_"...don't you have any concern for your grades?" Nanono scratched the back of her head. "Why don't you come to class? Lata promised she would show us some high-level fire magic tomorrow after school... c'mon, you can't miss that."_

_"Meh." Blitzen grunted._

_Nanono flailed her limbs around, trying to create some semblance of an explosion._

_Blitzen shrugged, unsheathing a crude dagger from his loose belt. Nanono jumped back. "...wha! Where'd you get that? You could hurt yourself with that!"_

_"I asked some Mithra if I could help them chop wood." Blitzen let his teeth show through a wide grin. "They told me to get some practice first."_

_"You're not interested in magic at all, are you?"_

_"Does it matter?" Blitzen sulked forward, twirling the bronze knife in his hand. "...I wanna put my arms to use... I feel like I'm just rotting away in class... you've been in more than one class with me, right?"_

_"You did just fine then." Nanono mumbled._

_"There'll always be someone better than me. Every taru wants magic. I think there's something I can out there, something that'll have more meaning than just being another peon hoping to be able to make a big enough fireball to please the Star Sybil... every day I'm not in class, I'm searching Windurst for that. I'm talking to every guild in town, everyone wants choreboys, workers, craftsmen, and that is the first step for me." Blitzen nodded._

_"Try telling your parents that. Mine just think you're a weirdo... and while I'm not supposed to tell you this... they've already told me not to hang out with you... that you're a bad influence."_

_"That I am," Blitzen sighed happily. "That I am."_

_"Anyways... I gotta get going now..." Nanono bundled up her books, holding them to her chest as she turned to walk the other way. "...and Blitzen?"_

_"Hm?"_

_"...how's my hair?"_

_"Green." Blitzen smirked._

_Both laughed as Nanono began her long jog home. Blitzen would soon begin his._

_He would dread every moment of it._

_

* * *

_

Blitzen stirred the tongs idly in the small pot of water, his other hand's fingers steadily drumming the armrest of his wicket chair. He stared at the red glow pulsing out from under the surface of the water, letting out a heavy sigh. Fire crystals were by no means the cheapest way to heat water, but the tiny bachelor suite of his had no cooking-capable heat to speak of - that and his generally less-than-fireproof Windurstian-style furniture wouldn't agree with the motion.

As it reached a boil, Blitzen drunkenly shoved another pot of diced vegetables in. He nearly sent the pot flying off the table as the door of his 20-foot-wide abode flew open with a crash, causing every other utensil nearby to crash to the ground.

"Bliiiiitzeeeen!" Blitzen cringed at the shrill voice of Grawp's messenger moogle. It floated in, flapping its dull grey wings. It proceeded to knock over a wooden stand, Blitzen's tools falling in a series of orchestrated crashes. "You work today correct?"

"...yeah." Blitzen grunted.

"Grawp would like me to tell you that your delivery list has changed today, kupo! Please sign." Blitzen attempted to glance into his still-cooking lunch, before having a clipboard viciously rammed in his face. Blitzen tore the papers out of the moogle's tiny claws, and started flipping through.

"80 coppper, 40 bronze, has been changed to... 5 copper... 2 bronze..." he flipped back one page, and ahead again. "...that's a lot of weapons... uhh, okay, I'll be there." Blitzen handed the board back to the moogle, who promptly zoomed out of the room again. Blitzen scratched his head as he shut the door, sitting down and shoveling in a mouthful of the boiled greens. "...meh, weapons are easier anyways... dunno where he'd get an order that big from though. Can't be bothered to care."

He quickly finished off his meal, quickly fitting all his smithy's tools back in his belt and grabbing his apron off a wall rack. He was out the door within minutes of the update.

* * *

Grawp threw the same clipboard at the wall. The moogle absentmindedly turned around and floated out the day, slamming the door shut and knocking down the Smithing Guild sign again. "This is outrageous! I knew these events were being planned, but do the Musketeers think they can just walk in and slap down money like this is some damned restaraunt and expect their orders in ten blasted minutes or they DINE FREE!" he spun around to a dirtily-dressed bearded Hume leaning against the wall. "Kage. I want you to check the employment records, find everyone who was supposed to get this day free and get their asses down here PRONTO!"

"That has already begun." Kage said breathlessly, the words seeming to slither from his lips.

"'sup sup." As another worker finished hanging up the sign, Blitzen tossed the door to its side, knocking him and the sign down yet again.

"Blitzen, am I ever glad to see you." Grawp sighed heavily, standing up and moving alongside Blitzen. "Are you fine with working today?"

"I wasn't expecting groceries to take so short... I was getting bored." Blitzen shoved his way to the back door, barging into the main chamber. The furnaces were already glowing with life, the workers who were meant to be there earlier working double-time as those that were called in were still setting up. As Blitzen stood at the top of the metal stairs, tying his apron, Grawp shoved a pamphlet into his face. "...what's this?"

"The bane of our existance," Grawp grumbled. "Haven't you seen any of these kicking around town? Preperations are being made for the annual Legionnaires' Exhibition, which starts next week. It's generally Bastok's little career fair, national pride thing, you get the picture. Supposedly the good ol' military is the theme this time around, and there's supposed to be some presentations going on, with some sort of push towards greater citizen recruitment into the Legionnaires. Smells like a draft if you ask me."

Blitzen stared blankly out into the field of panicking smithies, bodies swarming around the floor like a demolished anthill. He looked away as a pallet jack and a wheelbarrow collided, spilling heavy bronze ingots onto someone else's feet. The victim jumped around letting out pained growls as everyone around him began arguing. "...couldn't you have been a little better prepared for this?"

"EXCUSE me," Grawp sputtered. "We weren't particularly expecting the Bastokan guard to drain every last raw ingot out of the guilds first."

Blitzen and Grawp made their way to the bottom of the stairs, and down the main alley leading to Blitzen's assigned furnace. The Hume and Elvaan he worked with were joined by another Hume and Galka, not paying much attention to him and the guildmaster as they peeked inside. "This is a little severe, isn't it?" Blitzen grumbled.

"Just put up with this for a day, I'm listening to enough people complaining as is without the workers starting to snivel." Grawp glanced over his shoulder, watching a hollow-eyed, white-haired Galka walk confidently down the floor. He wore a white apron, which Grawp immediately identified as one that non-guild-affiliated overseers wore - namely, those of government accordance. Grawp lifted an eyebrow as a Hume strode into the visitor's path, which the Galka swatted aside with a deeply-annoyed grunt. He flashed his jagged teeth as he made his way over to Grawp.

"...Guildmaster Grawp." he sneered. "I imagine everything is going... relatively smoothly here?"

"Flying Hammer. 40 of the weapons you asked for are complete." Grawp droned. "We are calling additional people in to complete your shipment before 4 this afternoon." Grawp rolled his eyes as Flying Hammer folded his hands behind his back, walking around Grawp.

"...idiots." Flying Hammer growled. "Look at these people. Careless, HAZARDOUS, in the face of a stressful deadline such as mine. Surely you could do a little more... 'strategic' job distribution? I want to see those weapons, and SOON, do I make myself clear?"

Blitzen's whistling suddenly drowned out the conversation as he walked out of the furnace, idly twirling his sword in his hands. "Yo, got anywhere I can put this? We're running out of shelf space for our maces fast in here."

Flying Hammer blinked. "And who the hell would he be?"

"He is an apprentice smith of furnace H, he recently joined our team, two weeks ago if I'm not mistaken."

Flying Hammer smirked, paying no attention to Grawp. "...Tarutaru? Now I've seen it all."

Grawp ran a hand down his face. "Here we go again."

"Tell me, Grawp, what does this little friend of yours make? Toothpicks? Letter openers? Butterknives? Maybe a dagger even?"

Blitzen stared blankly, heaving his sword over his shoulder. "Weapons. Deadly weapons. Like anyone else here."

"That's... sorta cute. He's twirling that little sword around." Flying Hammer chuckled. He leant over, planting his elbow on the wooden support of a supply platform. "Got any tricks you can show me?"

Blitzen paused. His stoic face quickly grew a frown. Grawp watched him as he hoisted the sword back over his shoulder, walking casually towards Flying Hammer. He glanced at the wooden shafts holding up a metal flat with various crates and large burlap sacks on top. "...I have a few tricks, now that you think of it. Nice... entertaining... Tarutaru tricks."

Grawp stumbled back as Blitzen leapt forward, falling forward onto one foot and spinning 360 degrees - shattering the base of the wooden support with a cleave of his blade. The loss of balance, coupled with the still stunned Flying Hammer pushing forward on it, caused the metal platform to teeter in his direction. Its contents were launched at the overseer Galka, him letting out a pained growl as a crate flew against his torso, and several packed bags of soot broke over his head. Flying Hammer stumbled back, hacking and coughing as he tripped over a loose ingot. The Galka finally hit the ground with a thunderous crash, causing a mushroom cloud of loose ash to rise over Blitzen and Grawp.

Grawp's fingers dug firmly into his scalp, his eyes bulging as he glanced back and forth between the still battle-stanced Blitzen and the coughing, wheezing Flying Hammer as he slowly climbed back to his feet. "Blitzen! What in the HELL are you doing!"

"What's going on here!" Two armored Musketeers charged through the crowd, their ebony and gold armor glowing in the inferno.

"Apprehend him!" Flying Hammer bellowed, forcing his way out of the slippery ashes.

Grawp stared sadly at Blitzen, stepping away. "...this was your own doing, Blitzen."

Blitzen grit his teeth, glancing between the advancing guards and Grawp. Growling, he let his sword drop to his side, and quickly pointed it in the direction of the policing unit. "Don't think I regret anything." letting out a wheeze, he tossed his sword to the side, watching it skid to a painful stop. Turning back, he raised his arms. Expecting a quick cuffing, he instead coughed out a mouthful of blood as an armored boot slammed into his gut, sending him flying back into the side of one of the cinder-block walls of the metalworks. An injured hack escaped his lips as he fell to the ground in a slump.

"Ridiculous." Flying Hammer muttered. Blitzen fell forward again, feeling the icy jaws of unconsciousness coming down.

* * *

"If it makes you feel any better, kupo, the load on the Smithing guild has lightened considerably since you left."

Blitzen lied motionless in his bed, wheezing.

"...because, well, a lot of people are quitting... or getting fired over trivial things... I think the government is keeping a tighter lid on them... kupo..." the moogle carried the wobbling tongs out of the hot water bottle, dropping the fire crystal into a bronze urn. The moogle lifted the blankets, slapping the bottle down on Blitzen's forehead. The large bandage, triple-wrapped around Blitzen's swollen torso, was entering its fifth day of use. "...do you think you'll be able to stay up today?"

"I think so." Blitzen raised his legs slightly, swinging them off the bed. The moogle landed, crouching under Blitzen's right arm to help him up. As he stood, he stopped wobbling. "...thanks." He stared at the moogle. The creature remained still, staring at Blitzen, waiting for any sort of command. "..I... think I'll be fine for today."

"Okay okay, kupo... just gimme a ring if you need anything... you have the pearl still?"

"On the table."

Blitzen waved the moogle off as it grabbed its comically large doctor's bag and floated off. Sighing, he wandered over to the pantry and stuck his head in. He still had an ample supply of foodstuffs for the next week at least - and still had enough money from his earlier overtime work at the smithy to get the attention of a professional medical moogle, thankfully. Not that his attendance prevented him from getting fired. Just another group he failed to impress. Not much an exception from anything else in his life.

_"Tell me, Grawp, what does this little friend of yours make? Toothpicks? Letter openers? Butterknives? Maybe a dagger even?"_

Flying Hammer's words made him cringe.

_"That's... sorta cute. He's twirling that little sword around. Got any tricks you can show me?"_

Blitzen's face flushed. Clenching his fists, he glanced over his shoulder to the other side of his bed, where his sword leant against the wall point-down. The Legionnaires' Exhibition papers still sat on the table, the pages fluttering in the breeze coming through the window.

_"Smithing pays the bills, kid, but to be honest, it ain't the most exciting thing. Or babysitting smithing, for that matter. You know, I think if you hit the right chords you could probably enlist in Bastok's Musketeer forces."_

Blitzen frowned, walking slowly around the bed. Picking up the blade with his right hand, he checked both flat edges, slowly cutting at the air. It generated a gleam that made him smile... even in situations like these. It was then he realized, that as long as he had money and that motive, things would always turn out right. That was always the way. And not everyone had the right amount of money to have TWO moogles working for them.

He glanced over as the door creaked open. "...Blitzen?" Grawp's moogle stuck his head in, checking around the room. "Alone, k-kupo?"

"Leave them by the table." Blitzen said sternly.

"Aye aye... Grawp's not gonna know about this, right?" the moogle slowly drug a heavy burlap bag along the floor, dropping it with a thud at the base of the short-legged Windurstian table.

"Grawp who?" Blitzen sighed. He tossed a small sack of gil up in the air, which the moogle caught with its free hand.

"Pleasure doin' buisness, kupo." the door slammed shut. Blitzen's rack of tools wobbled over again, dumping its contents with a dull crash. Not that he'd be needing them.

Blitzen crouched down, flipping up the opening of the bag. His grin grew a mile wide as he surveyed its contents. 10 copper ingots, 10 bronze ingots, a bundle of sheep leather. Perfect. The guild could do fine without them. One by one he moved the ingots to the top of the table, and placed the leather alongside them. Opening his pantry he removed a small bundle of the fire crystals. He slid one out, holding it up to the light. The elemental crystals, holding the essence of the elements - one trained in their handling could handle them like tools. A raging inferno in Blitzen's hand that could light a lamp and toast bread, or smelt the hardiest of adaman and blow up a city block.

He pulled up a stool, sitting down and beginning his work. A bright red haze quickly consumed his room as he began to work.

* * *

Naji stared dully at the rising moon, chuckling to himself before taking another huge bite of his bannock. He tore a huge chunk out of it, chewing it with his mouth open and letting crumbs flow down onto the cobblestone below. Ayame stared at him disgustedly. Naji glanced back, noticing the rest of the Mythril Musketeers glaring daggers. He held up the tiny shred of the bread left, hurling more food out of his mouth as he talked. "Wanf somf?"

Volker sulked. "I'm good."

The Legionnaire's Exhibition had begun only that night - festivities had been pushed back because, as the officals made emphasis on earlier, there were a 'lack of armaments' for the 'planned events, later that evening'. The situation had been resolved thereafter. Lights were strewn around the central fountain of the Bastok marketplace, fireworks were set off now and then, and adults and children alike wandered the large plaza. Fair games were strewn around the city, and the usual career information booths were set up around the auction house - agriculture, metalworking, import and export, diplomatic business, arts, political sciences, and generally everything the city was famous for. Everything else was shoved off to the other side of the auction compound. A large cage had been laid in the water conduits below, tied to metal shafts on the walkways above to keep it stable.

"I'm pretty certain no booth has moved an inch from last year." Naji said flatly.

Iron Eater sat on the ground, his back against the auction house wall. His arms were slumped haphazardly over his legs, possibly the only position for the galka to place them that seemed comfortable. "I think he's right."

"Why should it matter." Ayame said breathlessly.

"If it weren't for the banging and crashing and whatever the hell goes on in the Metalworks or Cid shoving all his new trinkets in our faces, we'd be stuck in a time warp." Naji shot back.

"This festival has significance." Ayame glanced over his shoulder, frowning at Naji.

"The Legionnaire's Exhibition has been implemented to demonstrate the power of the Bastokan military and provoke interest of the citizens of Bastok, thereby increasing enrollment by some noticable degree." Naji droned, his voice suddenly turning sharp as he finished, waving his arms in the air angrily. "What the hell was so bad about calling it the Bastokan Career Initiative Festival? That had a nice ring to it."

"The military has had little PR to speak of since the war," Volker stared out onto the water, his eyes closed. "This city was founded on economy and innovation, and that has always been its prime focus. The vast majority of people living in Bastok are the aging oppritunists and young workers. They are the ones that came to this city for a chance at life, and are less likely to risk it for their country. There are the Galka, of course, but their implied segregation coupled with the Zeid incident have left them reluctant of their success, or even recognition, in the Musketeer forces. There was no Galka in the force that had slain the second incarnation of the Shadow Lord either, as I recall. I agree that the rampant glorification of the Musketeer forces is irritating, but I wonder if it may be necessary to attract new talent."

All four stared over to the Musketeer displays. The booths were decorated with varying sizes of great swords, scythes, and knuckle-borne accessories - traditional weapons of Bastok. The dull blue water wheel barely stood out from the white background of the Bastokan national flag, flown high over top of the large tent. Its visitors were mostly children hypnotized by the brilliant gleam of the weapons and armor on display - while their parents were free to investigate the post-secondary educational funding plans provided by them; in exchange for years of service, of course.

"So many weapons, and nowhere for them to go." Iron Eater said sadly. "I do hope there is some interest generated by all this hype."

"So what's goin' on then?" Naji twisted off the lid of his canteen, taking a large swig of water. "The displays are still open for another two hours, do they plan on having the first night go out with a bang?"

Ayame had her nose stuck deep into the pamphlet. "...dethrone an Iron Musketeer... can you do it? Calling all fighters for a formal duel! Battle will take place at the conduit platform, in the ravine southeast from the goldsmith guild display. 50,000 gil prize up for grabs."

"Does it say what time?" Volker stared back towards the group.

"Ten minutes ago." Ayame read.

* * *

"Uaagghh!..." a Hume, wearing dull grey armor, let out all the saliva in his mouth as he slammed into the metal bars behind him. Slumping down, his hands fluttered as he scanned the ground for his sword. Flying Hammer's black-armored foot slammed down, dragging the weapon just out of his reach. The behemoth towered over his downed opponent, none of his pasty white skin showing through his seamless darksteel plate armor.

"Too weak." he shouted to the crowd. Half of the pedestrians above and to his sides cheered and hooted wildly, the others cringed. He slung his war hammer back over his shoulders with one hand. Glaring at the audience, he grimaced as the maul's head blocked his view. "...dunno why they just can't let me use my axe... would be faster to cut these fools down than treat whatever injuries I give them..."

"That makes eight decisive victories for I.M. Flying Hammer tonight," one of the other chain-mailed Iron Musketeers shouted to the crowd from a platform suspended above. "...that, I would like to emphasize, is what YOU will be turned into when we're through with you."

"Dead, or Galka? I don't know what I prefer." a jeer shot out of the crowd.

Again the crowd was split between laughter and silence. Flying Hammer's eyes burned, seeming to burn a wide gap in the crowd. A small group of Elvaan boys began stepping back.

"I suppose you'd like a try?" Flying Hammer pointed the tip of his massive hammer at the crowd. "From the sound of that comment, you'd rather be dead or Galka than a whiny little brat, so how about you stand up to your words!" Everyone seemed to lurch at the comment, a mother quickly shielding the boys as they began to tear up.

"P. R." the guard above hissed down into the cage.

"You show me someone worthy and I'll give them all the goddamn praise they want. Where is the next challenger?"

Grawp stood at the back of the group, leant up to the wall next to the Goldsmith guild doors. Cupping his hands to his mouth, he spoke up above the crowd. "People wonder where the warmonger Galka stereotype comes from... I can't be bothered to watch anymore of this carnage, let alone this idiot's ego trip." Flying Hammer's frown twisted into a demented curl. As people realized the comment came from another Galka, their discomfort faded away.

The overseer Musketeer let the armet of his helmet fall back down, carefully peering through the slits to read the piece of paper in front of him. "We shall now proceed with our next challenger: we present #9 of 10, who also competes for our enticing 50,000 gil prize..." he paused, reading over the sheet again. "...my apologies, #9 appears to be a typo... moving to #10-"

Three people were spilled over as a blur leapt to the guardrail, skidding down one of the tow ropes holding the cage down, and finally leaping down into the cage. What many people thought was someone hunched down, was actually his full height. Blitzen wasted no time tossing away his tattered cape, tearing his sword out of its equally battered sheath. The audience once again fell silent.

"So anyways, then he-" Naji ground to a halt, staring out dully into the cage. "...ohhh, that's not gonna do wonders."

Ayame rubbed a hand into her face. "You have got to be joking."

"That's right, in Bastok, we let our masculinity show through with a good old round of Taru molestation." Naji nodded. "...I dunno who let him in... but so much for our PR."

"Maybe this was a disturbance created on his part." Volker. "Be quiet and watch."

Blitzen stood up, exposing himself - he was in a coat of tightly-woven bronze chains, worn over top of his green loafers for obvious comfort reasons. He quickly equipped a loose-fitting skullcap on his oversized head. The set had obviously been custom-created, and the armaments used were obviously picked out due to ease of crafting.

"...entry #9, Blitzen-Aitzen!"

"Le sigh." Naji grunted.

Everyone stared blankly. Except for Flying Hammer, who's grin was now of pure delirium. "...well well, if it isn't our little tin knight. You're one of those I-think-I-can types, aren't you? So what have you come here for? To issue your apology and hope that I don't crush your bones for even attempting to do so?"

"Maybe you'll crush me, maybe you won't," Blitzen muttered. "I've come here for the same reason as everyone else. To test myself against an Iron Musketeer. Gil is secondary. If I can put up a fight, and let you make yourself look like an ass while you try to crush this little ant that won't give up, all the better."

"You want to fight." Flying Hammer smirked. "Well isn't that commendable. Fetch me my axe. It doesn't matter what you hit an insect with... he still dies." he held his hand up, intercepting the massive whoosh that tore through the air - catching the massive battleaxe with one stroke of his arm. He quickly planted the handle firmly in both palms, staring hungrily at Blitzen.

"You know, I was expecting at least one person to comfort the underdog, but that just doesn't happen." Blitzen held his blade behind him, pivoting off to the side as he made his first blind charge at the pillar of muscle.

"DIE!" Flying Hammer roared, quickly calculating Blitzen's position. His axe hurtled through the air, ripping into the wooden platform below him with the sound of an explosion. Quickly noticing the missed strike he tore the axe from the ground, hunching down and spinning in a complete circle, hoping to tag his tiny target. The force noticably kicked up the waves around the floating cage. His eyes burned as he noticed Blitzen on his back a short distance away. He had most likely been standing close to where the axe stopped, and was able to fall back to avoid the strike as it went above him. Flying Hammer let out another bellow as he let his axe fall to one hand, slinging it up and down again at the ground. Blitzen attemped to roll away, but was sent flying by the force of the impact where he once was.

Blitzen barely caught one of the support ropes, using it to swing himself back down.

"This is interesting." Volker rubbed his chin. "I would have never thought of that."

"What is that?" Ayame mumbled.

"That's an obvious weakness in a heavily armored, heavily-armed fellow. I doubt anyone that this Musketeer has foughten anyone in the past while with the agility of a Tarutaru. I doubt he's ever engaged one in melee period, to tell you the truth. I'm surprised that his opponent has enough of a grasp on the situation to be able to make judgments on where to move without hesitation, but if he keeps it up he may be able to wear down Flying Hammer. As a matter of fact, the arena itself doesn't seem to be built for someone using that heavy of a weapon."

"The cage is unstable. It is being held up by ropes, but an impact large enough on one corner could dismantle it." Iron Eater finished.

"STAND.. STILL!" Flying Hammer was on his sixth consecutive blow. Blitzen bounded out of the way once more, the delay in his actions beginning to show. He glanced back, gasping for breath as the Galka wrenched his weapon free once more. Bellowing in rage he began a wild sprint at the Taru on the far edge of the platform - his strides causing the platform to sway.

Blitzen watched the wall of the conduit come closer and closer to him as the platform moved. He simply moved back, his feet teetering on the edge as Flying Hammer bull-charged him. He grabbed onto the nearest rope, sticking out his tongue as Flying Hammer raised his axe as high above his head as he could get it - Blitzen swung up, kicking off the wall and dismounting off to the Musketeer's side as the axe hit home. People up above scattered as chunks of rock flew into the air. Blitzen grimaced as he ran around behind the Galka, jabbing his sword into the slot where his thick tail swayed from.

"GYAAAAH! You LITTLE FREA-" Flying Hammer spun around, ready to prepare for another swing - but his axe never moved. He turned to look at it, his eyes bulging as he noticed where it was - firmly entrenched in the side of the rock wall of the conduit. He yanked and pulled at it, growling and snarling - while Blitzen ran to the rope next to him.

"Choose your weapon," Blitzen smiled. "I wouldn't suggest the axe." With one smooth stroke, Blitzen's blade severed the rope in front of him, causing the cage to tip over in that direction. Water began to pour into the cage, and Flying Hammer lost his balance, stumbling as he tried to reach back to his axe. Blitzen had already run a wide arc around him to the other corner, slicing apart that support as well. Flying Hammer leapt back, his side of the platform completely crashing into the water and seperating him from his weapon.

The cheering up above was now louder than it ever was before.

"I will crush you with my own bare hands if needed!" Flying Hammer turned around, dashing up the slanted cage floor. Blitzen calmly sheathed his sword. Everyone stared onward in disbelief as he waited to intercept. The Galka, raised his fist, ready to slam it down in the same manner as any other weapon.

With a grunt of approval, Blitzen caught it with his according palm. Gasps and cries rose out of the crowd.

"..w-what! How!" Flying Hammer sent his other open hand at Blitzen's head, exposing his lower torso. Blitzen crouched, evading the strike altogether and delivering a sweeping kick to the side of Flying Hammer's armored leg. Damaging it was out of the question. "..urk."

As the platform shifted back in Blitzen's direction, from the weight of Flying Hammer, the strike was the last step necessary to throw him off balance yet again - as he began to fall over top of Blitzen, Blitzen leapfrogged between his short legs, slashing one last rope on his way out. As Blitzen rolled to a stop, Flying Hammer crashed down. The platform tilted up again, dumping the darksteel giant in the shallow water below. Blitzen drove his sword into the platform, holding himself up as the water settled. Flying Hammer finally pushed himself up, spewing out a mouthful of the resevoir. As he slowly crawled up the other side of the platform, people offered their hands to finally drag Blitzen out of the cage. Applause rose as Blitzen set foot back onto the cobblestone above, shaking more water off.

"We have our first winner of the night! Blitzen-Aitzen has won rights to the his 50,000 gil prize package! I send out my personal congratulations to this young fellow, a Tarutaru nonetheless, that has made a monkey out of Flying Hammer without a single sword strike! There will be a brief pause in the action as we set our platform up again, so please stay tuned!"

"Wait, wha-" Blitzen was suddenly lifted off the ground, raised and thrown about atop a group of cheering and shouting people as they began to move away. The Musketeer caught up with the ground, quickly tossing up the massive sack of gold coins onto his chest. "I appreciate ever-gaack-"

Volker continued to stare onwards as the other Mythril Musketeers began to head back to the food stands. Blitzen's sword bobbed in his free hand. Volker's eyes continued to follow the hilt as it bounced. "...there was no way he'd have the hand-to-hand combat abilities he did, and wield a sword of that size in comparison to him, unless..." Blitzen finally let out a cheer of his own, stabbing his blade high into the air. Volker's eyes locked onto the very bottom of the hilt, where a noticably large red gem stuck out. "...just as I thought."

"Are you coming?" Iron Eater smiled. "That was some unlikely entertainment I'm sure, but we have a lot of work tomorrow."

"Go on ahead." Volker commanded. He strided forward, dodging around people as he hunted Blitzen from a distance. Grawp's eyes rolled over as the lead Mythril Musketeer passed him. Slowly the Galka began to chuckle.

"He's onto you, and he won't be as understanding as me." Grawp hummed under his breath. "Stay frosty, Blitzen."

* * *

Blitzen was all smiles.

He strode down under the arch of the Metalworks, comfortably swinging his bag of money. Dignity and wealth all in one convenient packaging. What do to do with his recent windfall was still out of mind. Maybe he'd finally move out of his rotting bachelor suite, possibly get somewhere with a functioning fireplace. And a good view. Of water. He liked oceanfronts. Upgrading his armor was always a tempting possibility. He had potentially made a celebrity out of himself, and he wanted to be best prepared for it as possible.

He finally made his way to the empty residential district, far south. The dull, quiet alley of Ore Street was now more ghostly than ever. Whereas half of its residents worked the nearby Zeruhn Mines around the clock, the other half were stay-in citizens too cheap for anywhere else. The latter group was most likely at the Exhibition. Blitzen stared up. It was late, but not too late. It was starting to drizzle, and the sky was definately warning of a downpour.

Blitzen lifted his keys, sorting through them as a crash roared through the street. Lifting his tired head, he slowly turned around.

"I'd like a word with you." Volker stood a good forty feet away, continuing to eye up Blitzen.

"Kinda late," Blitzen grunted. He turned around, resuming his hunt. He paused again, sighing as he turned back to Volker. "Who the hell are you?"

"I was about to ask you the same question." Volker drew his sword, holding it down at his side. He slowly walked forward as the rain started to come down.

"Heh," Blitzen finally opened his door, tossing the gil on his tool stand. He shut his door again, unsheathing his weapon once more. "Don't think I'm defenseless because I don't throw my sword around everywhere in a fight."

"Don't think I'm defenseless because I look like a mindless Bastokan brute, like all the others." Volker growled.

"..hm?" Blitzen blinked.

Volker held his sword up, flipping it in his hands. The glint of a bright blue gem within its hilt flashed at Blitzen. "Don't think I'm stupid, because I CAN see a Tarutaru with bigger things on his mind."

"Please elaborate."

"Stay where you are, spy of San d'Oria."

Blitzen paused for a moment.

Finally his shoulders sulked.

"Been a while since I've heard that," Blitzen mumbled, glaring at Volker. His stoic face quickly gained a wide grin. "I like it better than 'Tarutaru'."

"You're coming with me."

"On one condition."

"And what would that be?"

Blitzen swung his blade behind his head, water flying into the air as he rushed Volker. "Make sure you check next time and see how un-Tarutaru I am?"

"Hmph." Volker rushed forward in response, cleaving downward at Blitzen. Blitzen froze, passing off his sword to his other hand and slinging it over his shoulder in an arc. Both blades crashed together, letting out a pained ring as both slid along each other. Volker quickly forced Blitzen's sword out of his hand, sending it spinning off through a puddle. Volker slung his fist at Blitzen in attempt to immobilize him, but his hand smashed into a blue barrier in the air. Volker stumbled back, holding onto his damaged hand and his sword. Blitzen stood with his palm in the air, a blue aura wrapping downwards from it.

"No magic," Volker grimaced. "Isn't that what you told your friends?"

"You've had eyes everywhere from the beginning." Blitzen's eyes narrowed.

"Since we discovered the San d'Orian royal emblem carved in the bottom of your sword."

"This is the last possession of mine," Blitzen growled. "From an earlier life."

"You even lied to all your Metalworks comrades about your past. That was worth bonus points right there."

"If you know so much about me, you would also know that I am no spy of San d'Oria. I have come to Bastok to live."

"And I am telling you to pack your bags. I knew that comment would get your attention, of course. You are so intent on slinging that damned name of yours around, and being popular, and being someone in Bastok, that you are endangering yourself by doing so. Your track record is a lot more noticable than you'd like to believe, Blitzen. And, sooner or later, someone is going to act upon that and return you to your former masters."

"And you'd like me to do what, eh?" Blitzen picked up his sword, continuing to pour mana into his ethereal shield.

"Return to Windurst."

Blitzen's eyes burned, his face suddenly distorting.

"Windurst and San d'Oria have no common ground. It is there you would be safest from San d'Oria."

"Go to HELL!" Blitzen hurled himself at Volker once more. Volker simply frowned, hunched down and threw himself alongside him. Thunder flashed once. Blitzen's trajectory took him past Volker, hurling him into a pile of crates nearby. Slowly he pried himself up, letting out a dry cough as he wiped a streak of dark sludge from his arm. Slowly the blood replaced itself. Blitzen planted his hand firmly on the gash, sealing it up to some extent with a burst of white magic.

Volker stared at Blitzen momentarily. "Think about it." With that, he spun around on his heel and was off, hiding his sword once more.

Blitzen's door was feet away, unlocked and ready for entry.

All Blitzen could do was sob in the rain.

* * *

Comments? Queries? Death threats?  
keyvanaugustana.ca 


	3. Oaths to Oneself

_Nanono dabbed at the sheet of paper in front of her with her feathered pen. Her other hand held her right pigtail in front of her, as she absentmindedly sifted through it with her fingers. Hair. It was always the hair. She glanced out to the window. A ceiling of black clouds crowded over top of the Windurstian suburbs in the time it took her to get home from school, and it was slowly beginning to drizzle. She didn't need to feel the water, or see it for that matter. Her training in elemental magic allowed her to sense it._

_Hair._

_Nanono sighed. It had been years since she was bugged about it in the lower grades of magic school, but it still stung to think about it. That snot-green headdress, it didn't matter what elaborate styles she or her mother curled it into, it had still been the hot topic of discussion of her classmates for as long as she could remember. In these higher tiers of magic school, where Tarutaru were on the verge of adulthood and many had become more attached to classmates of the opposite gender, some even debating becoming life mates after a long 10+ years in the same small cluster of students, Nanono clung to her schoolwork for dear life. Maybe because there was nothing else TO hold onto. No one wanted that repulsive color._

_"I want to dye my hair. Can I, mom?" Nanono said dully._

_Her mother's response was never a "Your classmates have never understood you, and have always judged a book by its cover," but rather, "When you master the ancient magicks, when someone gives you that crap you will just blast them to atoms"._

_Nanono's report on Crystal Enchantment Theory was already two days overdue. She slowly let her pen drop back into the ink goblet with a dull plop, resting her head on one palm as she flipped through the pages again. Her room was silent save for the rustle of the shower outside. The darkened wood floorboards were beginning to show wear from years of Nanono's trampling. The walls were made from pale green boards. Books and tomes laid haphazardly across the floor, and across her neatly-made bed. She was almost too large for it, but nothing matched its comfort. Yet more books, mostly stories and wall scrolls, were stored in a bookshelf in the corner. Fairytales; heroes of Windurst, summoning, spellcasting, healing, doing battle with vile beastmen. One that Nanono always kept in mind was where a brave Tarutaru boy, with barely any grasp on white incantations, single-handedly sneaked to the very top of Castle Oztroja, the Yagudo fortress, and back to rescue his captured friends._

_Nanono had a few books on white magic, but not many. White magic wasn't necessarily a hot commodity in Windurst, and her parents had refused to let her order any from the monastery libraries of the far-off San d'Oria - she was simply scolded again, and told to not fall behind in her elemental magic studies._

_"Fire, Blizzard, Thunder, Water, Aero," Nanono held the papers up with both hands, letting them fall against the surface of her desk to put them in line. Sliding them into a drawer she turned her chair around, resting her arms on the windowsill. The rain had begun to fall. The air was cooling down, which Nanono welcomed. "Why can't I learn something I want to for a change... how did he put it that one time... 'don't wanna be another peon hoping to be able to make a big enough fireball to please the Star Sybil'..." She sadly stared out to the house across the road. It was a wooden-plank house similar to her family's, oval in shape with a wide porch running around its base. It was generally in much better shape than hers. A large collection of lawn furniture was gathered by the door. Blitzen's family had always been one of the wealthy ones in the Waters. Probably needed the money to keep sending Blitzen back to the academy when he screwed up, Nanono thought._

_"...guess I'll see what he's up to." Nanono's grin spread a mile wide as she grabbed a small stone totem out of a lockbox on the desk. She planted her hand on it, supplying it with a small amount of mana before she stood it up on the windowsill. Her eyes gradually returned to their soothed state and her heart began to race as she watched the second floor window on the neighboring house._

_A Truesight Totem, one of many in her collection. Her handling of the Totems was widely regarded as forbidden magic in the city of Windurst, and was thought to attract evil spirits when one was active. They had been handed down to her from one of Blitzen's Mithra friends many years prior, and she quickly mastered their use, as they had many available effects - both amusing and destructive. Nanono was more interested in the former. This magic artifact in particular allowed her to hear and see what was occuring on a focused point anywhere in a large radius. It was aimed where it always was - Blitzen's room._

_"And what is Blitzy up to tonight..." Nanono smiled, blushing as the wall on the opposite house began to peel away. Soon Blitzen's abode was visible, as if the wall of his bedroom had been completely torn off._

_Blitzen was sitting in a desk identical to hers, continuing to chip away at some wood with his bronze dagger. The same bronze dagger he'd had for countless years. Wooden ornaments were scattered all around his room, on the ground in a corner, lining his shelves. His magic texts were tossed in a heap at the foot of his bed. They hadn't moved for a week. Blitzen scraped his hands through his hair. It had completely covered his head now, leaving his ears sticking out of the mess. He lifted up his newest creation, eyeing it from all perspectives. It was a dagger hilt, one of many he had in storage. Nanono knew the Mithra readily accepted laborers to craft the framework for their weapons - the clients were not always honorable ones, but they paid extremely well. Blitzen finally smiled, standing to place the item on his shelf - when the door flew open. A much larger Tarutaru strided in, with bright blue acorn-shaped hair. His blue eyes were as cold as usual._

_"I wonder how his parents wish him good night... don't think I've ever spied on him this late at night." Nanono watched closely._

_A fist flew into the side of Blitzen's face, sending him sprawled against the far wall._

_Nanono's face twitched. Did I see this right?_

_"...every night I come up here... and here you are, pissing around with your stupid knife... haven't you cut yourself yet? Or do I need to do it for you?" his face twisted, kneeling down to drag Blitzen up by his collar. "Quit messing around and get back to studying! I don't pay good money to send you to the academy to let you run off to do those filthy Mithras' grunt work!"_

_"I-I made 300 gil t-today, da-"_

_"Unzo." a hazel-haired Tarutaru woman was standing in the doorframe._

_"SHUT UP!" Unzo-Aitzen slammed Blitzen against the wall, causing him to spit out a mist of saliva. "I am SICK and TIRED of trying to beat you into shape! Why don't you understand magic! Why can't you go to school and be powerful? Why can't you make me proud for a change?"_

_Nanono clenched her fists, feeling her arms begin to shake._

_"Why can't you go to school and be powerful?"_

_Would this be how her parents would react if she were in his state?_

_"Listen to your father." the woman droned._

_Nanono's eyes grew wide, her lips trembling as she spoke to herself. "She's got no more compassion than him!"_

_Unzo's expression was furious. "We are the laughing stock of Windurst Waters... you will get yourself together, or else I WILL give you something to cry about. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"_

_Blitzen slumped down. Unzo let go of him, letting the boy fall onto his bottom, leant against the wall. Unzo gave one last snort of disgust before him and his wife left the room, making sure to slam the door on the way out. Nanono continued to watch breathlessly as Blitzen slowly fell lower and lower, continuing to sob._

_Nanono fell back in her chair, feeling the energy being sapped out of her. "You were right all the long, Blitzen."_

_"Are you alright up there, Nanono?" a feminine voice called from below. "You're usually down here begging for supper by now."_

_Nanono's head slowly turned to her totem. Painful thoughts of what degree of rejection she'd go through, if it were ever discovered she was learning Mithran totem magic, started to surface._

_"I'm anything but alright." Nanono said coldly._

_

* * *

_

The sun was barely rising, but Grawp was in his same seat as usual, waiting patiently at the front desk of the Smithing guild for the morning workers to arrive. A couple had quit from the harsh treatment of the Musketeers, but asides from earlier incidents orders had returned to normal, and ingots resumed flowing in and out of the Metalworks service exits. Grawp's eyes floated around, checking for potential disturbances, before he slowly reached for the novel on the far side of the desk. He fumbled with the book, sending it flying off the desk as the guild door flew open. The sign hanging from it fell to the ground with a dull thud.

Kage slowly entered, stopping suddenly to glance down at the book that laid spread-eagle at his feet. "...you have interesting taste in romantic novels, if I may say so."

Grawp sulked. "How may I help you..."

"I would like to make a personal order," Kage murmured. "I was talking to some colleagues at the Steaming Sheep, and one mentioned that you were properly trained to make kunai."

"I no longer handle those orders, talk to Keith, B furnace." Grawp suddenly seized his timestamp, starting to pound furiously at a series of parchment papers that lined his desk. Kage stared dully at the flustered Galka, slowly walking around the desk and back to the work chamber. As the heavy metal door fell shut, Grawp turned his chair around to stare into a display case that hung off the wall. It contained a set of cermet weapons, including a sword, a dagger, and a katana. Grawp's eyes in particular were focused on the latter. He let out a weary sigh as he examined his name, crystal-inscribed in the pale beige composite.

"Blitzen tries so hard," he moaned to himself. "But discrimination is such a difficult thing to overcome..."

* * *

Unemployment was, in Bastok at least, regarded as a very bad thing. It was widely regarded that if you could do nothing else for the City of Opportunity, you could at least hurl yourself off the Gustaberg cliffs into the ocean and entertain everyone. Blitzen was from out-of-country and acknowledged himself as a valid exception to the rule. His funds were still fairly high, enough for groceries and rent for at least six weeks. Finding a job was not particularly at the top of his agenda. He stared drunkenly at his mirror, barely two minutes after waking - it was nearly noon in the merchant city, and the sun hung high above it, heating the countless stone structures therein. Running his hands through his disaster-stricken hair, he moved to the door, where a loud rapping rang out from the other side. 

Blitzen opened the door, staring into a crowd of children. "...whuzzah?..."

"I told you, this is the house of Blitzen-Aitzen the Galka slayer!" one Hume child folded his arms, nodding to the rest of the group. Blitzen looked around, suddenly remembering that he was just as tall as any of them - though many years their senior.

"How am I supposed to respond to that?" a Galka boy mumbled.

"You're gonna give me your lunch money, or Blitzen is gonna beat you up!"

"...w-wait, what?" Blitzen grumbled. "I'm not beating anyone up. I don't slay galkas, I just slay bullies, and people that won't shut up. And if you ask me, I think you fit both categories quite nicely. Wait here while I sharpen my blade."

The entire crowd, save the galka, ran off screaming. "...I.. wasn't expecting that... thank you, sir."

Blitzen continued to rub his tired eyes. "Wasn't expecting what? You hang out with creeps."

The boy shuffled his feet, his long, pasty tail dragging on the ground in cadence. "...if my guardian found out I were here talking to you, he wouldn't appreciate it... the elders say you're a bad man."

Flying Hammer's snarling face drifted by in Blitzen's mind. Roughing up the present Galka beacon of hope in the Iron Musketeers wasn't going to particularly do wonders for his relations with the Galkan populace. He roughed his hair up with both hands, laughing nervously. "Ah, ha ha, ha.. eh... uh, you couldn't put in a good word for me, huh? I did save your behind and everything."

The child nodded, a muffled 'mhm' coming from his lips. "I can do that, sir."

Blitzen waved him off, slowly shutting the door again as the Galka wandered away. He strolled over to his closet, tossing open the sliding door. He would need to get more groceries today, nothing the nearby market stalls couldn't fix. There was the valid question of what to wear however. Sifting through the hangars stocked with varying sizes and shapes of sewn sweaters and shirts, pants and shorts, he stumbled upon the suit of bronze armor hanging limply in the middle. He stared at it for a moment before lifting it out of the closet. "...might have to defend myself from some maruading Galka..." he snickered. "...and I could always use the ego boost." he laid it on his bed, dismantling it so he could put it on again - who knew, maybe people would mistake him for one of those aspiring adventurers that always flooded around and through Bastok's main gates.

He continued whistling to himself as he wrapped himself up in the armor, sliding on his helmet. He squinted, rubbing dirt out of his eyes - the helmet didn't give him a terribly good view, and masked his own face to some extent. Blitzen opened the door again, stepping out - barely getting 20 feet from his home before getting swamped in Bastokan pedestrian traffic. It was a weekend. The markets were bound to be packed with people like him getting their groceries. Sighing he began to weave through the crowd, trying to find his way to the stairs that lead up to the auction house. From there he'd be able to head around to the other side of the Markets' main conduit where a fair number of stalls waited, though he himself couldn't remember what they sold. Most of his shopping was usually done in the port, where fresh produce from Sarutabaruta and Kolshushu usually was immediately put on display.

With grim determination Blitzen put his foot forward, stepping out of the crushing gaggle of people and plowing straight into another tarutaru, with a dull beige tunic completely sheathing its arms and covering its head. Blitzen stumbled back, staring dully as his victim tripped and fell flat on his/her face. Blitzen frowned, grabbing onto a limp hand and dragging the body back up. "...uh... you alright?"

Nanono grumbled, rubbing a stain off the side of her coat. "...watch where you're going."

Blitzen stared blankly until Nanono glared back at him. "...do I know you?"

"I'm in a hurry." Nanono shoved her way through Blitzen, knocking him over in the same manner. Blitzen completely lost his balance, falling into a nearby wall and bashing his noseguard against his face.

"AAAUUGG-KK-" Blitzen hoisted himself up and ripped off the skullcap, rubbing his snout, now reddened with a trickle of blood.

"People make fun of me because I'm anatomically incorrect," Grawp grumbled, leant against a nearby wall. He folded his arms in front of him, letting out an annoyed grunt. "But some days, I'm happy I have no opposite sex."

"I've been meaning to talk to you..." Blitzen continued rubbing his face.

"I'm touched." Grawp said flatly.

"The entire time I worked in the Metalworks... you knew that the Musketeers were watching me, didn't you?"

Grawp smirked. "I see you've run into our friendly Bastokan policemen... of COURSE you were being watched, the entire facility is sitting underneath the Bastokan government offices, you nitwit. Since you arrived and began working here full-time they've been keeping an even tighter watch on the smithing guild. I would have guessed that what prompted Flying Hammer to 'oversee' the production of the weapons that were to be used in the festival events. And after that last stunt you pulled in handing his ass to him, you were fairly easy to pick out of the crowd."

"Would have guessed?" Blitzen mumbled. "I thought you were working with them."

"Of COURSE I'm working with them," Grawp growled. "Just not directly. They rammed that investigation down my throat. There's nothing I actually do at this damned guild, I sit at a desk, hand out pay stubs and make sure those grade-school grunts on the floor below don't incinerate themselves trying to put together a sword. The government regulates most of the smithing guild actually does, as it's connected to the primary smelters that process whatever crap comes out of Zeruhn."

"How much do you know about me?" Blitzen said dryly.

"I know NOTHING about you, the moment I saw that San d'Orian emblem on your sword when you first tossed it on my desk, I began to see right through the rest of your introduction." Grawp let out a dull sigh as Blitzen turned to walk away, raising his arm in protest. "Blitzen, I truly don't know what your business is in Bastok, but I took you under my wing because you were a fine smithy. Nothing more. Maybe I saw a little of you in me..."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Blitzen spat, glancing over his shoulder.

Grawp stared at Blitzen with tired eyes, the cermet kunai in his pocket becoming heavier by the moment. He slowly drew it out, examining it before sheathing it again. "...can we talk later, in private? I really want to know what's going on here."

Blitzen continued to glare, eyeing the kunai's handle sticking awkwardly out of Grawp's apron pocket. The mood was quickly shattered as a short, sleek figure sprinted between the two, shoving Blitzen back facefirst into the wall. "AAAUUUU-KKK!..."

"Damn it all!" an older man was visible at the top of a nearby stair, waving around a signpost in the air. "Guards! THIEF!"

Grawp calmly stepped out of the way as a pair of dark-haired humes in blue-padded chain mail left their posts, charging off towards the fountain plaza of the markets. He advanced, dragging Blitzen back onto his feet with one hand. "You okay?"

"Whatever." Blitzen shoved Grawp's hand away, dusting himself off. The two continued exchanging glances, until it was clear that Blitzen was still staring at Grawp's chest. Grawp blinked, looking down - his face turned cold as he realized what Blitzen noticed. His hands fumbled through his pockets, no longer able to find the dagger that stuck haphazardly out of his apron moments earlier.

"Pickpocket." Grawp snarled. His face twisted, baring his teeth as he charged off in the direction of the pursuing guards.

"Don't walk away from me!" Blitzen yelled, quickly taking off after him. He growled to himself as he broke into a sprint (or as much of a sprint as his legs could manage), quickly falling behind the galka's longer, and must faster, strides. He followed him into a nearby break between the apartment-like complexes. Glancing around, he was quick to admit that he had lost Grawp. Exactly how, he wasn't sure. "...sheesh, Galka can sure move their fat asses when they want to..."

Blitzen slowly jogged up the dully-lit alley to a market booth, hunching over and sighing heavily before glancing back up at the open shop. The old lady running it, hiding behind a giant mound of fresh peaches, passed a canteen down to him. Blitzen blinked, reaching forward and taking it with a shaky hand, before taking a long drink from it. "T-thanks."

"Peaches?" she said softly.

"Would only be proper." Blitzen dug in the sack tied firmly to his belt, dumping a small number of coins onto the counter. He quickly wrapped up half a dozen of the tennis-ball-sized fruits in a small burlap sack, tying it to his other hip. "You didn't happen to see a galka chasing someone through here recently, did you?"

"There was a galka and a mithra making a ruckus as they passed by..." she mumbled. "...but that must've been at least 20 minutes ago."

Blitzen's face twitched as he turned to face down the narrow passage. "What IS up with Grawp anyways? I think I'd better be going..."

"You know where to come for peaches?"

"..uh.. yeah, I'll keep that in mind." Blitzen jogged in place for a moment before taking off down the road, no one taking notice of the two blurs that shot by over top of the buildings surrounding him.

Grawp's heavy boots hit the granite roof with a loud thud, before he leapt forward again - his momentum carrying him all the way over the surface, over the next gap ahead of him, and onto the next building in one fell swoop. He grunted, gritting his teeth as he ran swiftly to the next alley, repeating the process. The slim figure ahead of him was slowly coming into view. It was, as he had presumed, a mithra. They were both reaching the eastern end of the residental sector, where the bedrock that Bastok's buildings sat upon suddenly stopped and a sharp drop into a water basin lied. The mithra simply leapt off the last building altogether, and Grawp followed. He dropped like a rock, as anyone would presume a galka falling off a building. His hands moved in a blur in front of him. His descent slowed sharply, and he landed feetfirst on the ground with no rough impact whatsoever.

Grawp glanced over, hearing faint footsteps in the distance. He leapt up on to the guardrail, running along it - not bothering to notice that his feet were nearly twice the width of the granite barrier that held them up. The footsteps drew nearer, and Grawp knew he was on the right path. The edge of the residences slowly wound around to the most eastern gate leading out of the city, which was on a lower level than the infrastructure of his. The rail suddenly turned 90 degrees, and Grawp leapt down, bypassing six flights of stone stairs altogether. His feet never stopped moving as he landed on the main cobblestone road leading to the gate, which was at least 50 feet wide to accomodate for traveling wagons to move in and out of the city - wide, wide open with no traffic at the moment, exactly where he could trap her. The mithra was in plain view, making a final run for the massive iron gates that lead through the mountain barrier leading to Gustaberg.

Grawp snapped his wrist, and a thin cord shot out of his hand with a dull whirr. It snaked towards the ground, piercing through the rock below him. Off in the distance the ground shattered, and a grappling hook whipped out of it, yanking his target right off its feet. The iron quickly broke under the strain, but effectively grounded her.

"If you had stayed along the edge of the basin, you would have made it to the gate," Grawp slowed his advance. "But you gave me a surface that I could have used to launch a sneak attack."

"Yeah, but I couldn't have kept up my speed or balance much longerrr..." she sighed dully, pushing herself back to her feet. She slowly turned around, grimacing as she ran a hand through her pearl-white hair. "...I'm surprised you saw that coming... you're not terrrribly fast on your feet though..."

"Suunya!..." Grawp snarled, clenching his fists. "What do YOU want!"

"Nice toy you've got here," Suunya flipped the kunai around in her hand. "Though, as I recall, I'm sure it appreciates being in the right hands again..."

"Give it back..." Grawp grumbled.

"Give it back? And what in the hell are YOU going to do with it? You listen here..." Suunya pointed the knife at Grawp. "I don't know what bargains you bother the Tenshodo with, but this is a fine piece of cermet craft, very high quality... very high price... and I'm not going to let you wave it around as your little butterknife any longer!"

Grawp twitched.

* * *

_"Why?" Grawp said weakly._

_"Exactly what it sounds like." the mithra sat leant back in her chair, her feet propper up lazily on a makeshift desk of crates. Her face twitched, and she stuck a finger into the front of her beret, adjusting it. "...what, you want me to write you a rebate or something?"_

_"You told me that I would receive my final training when I contacted your authorities and gave them what they wanted, and now you're just brushing me off like dirt!"_

_"And I TOLD you, Galka," she rolled her head over to Grawp, glancing at him with a chuckle. "They would give me a personal assessment of yourrr abilities and report to me whether you were fit for training or not. And, herrre we are! Have a nice day."_

_Grawp stood up, nearly throwing his vastly rusted and abused chair backwards. "Assessment! He looked me over and told me to come back to you!"_

_"That should be a fairly clear answer."_

_Grawp fumbled for words._

_"What the hell do you think?" the mithra stood, glaring daggers. "You're not exactly the goddamn embodiment of stealth! It doesn't matter how much of the arts you learn, or whatever magic you obtain, or however much training we force down your thrrroat! You have always been, and will always be, a big dumb oaf! Your performance is horrrrid, your agility is abysmal, and you show no sign of finesse in your missions. You are not fit to become a member of our organization."_

_Grawp pivoted, fire burning in his eyes as he turned back to the officer. "...that's all I am to you. Galka. That alone screams big, dumb oaf to you. I will continue my training elsewhere. I don't need a bigoted organization like yours holding back my education."_

_"Go where you please, you'll become no better."_

_Grawp growled, forcing himself to turn away. Slowly he left the empty warehouse behind. As he stepped out of the heavy iron doors, and started the long walk through Bastok's port to the residential sector, the words continued to saw at him. He could have shown her exactly what assassination skills he had up his sleeve - but one, his anger would only reinforce the Galka mentality, and two, she probably could have slit his throat in moments regardless._

_"I don't know what's more stereotypical, what she said or her being the person that said it." Grawp muttered._

_He held up his cermet kunai, tossing it around in his hands. He frowned, sheathing it again in the bundle strapped to his leg. Bold words of his, they were. Get training somewhere else. Get training where? The Tenshodo employed only the most elite soldiers as guardians, he wasn't likely going to find one floating around, much less one willing to be his private mentor. Groaning he began crossing the drawbridge that seperated the city from the ocean. His part-time smithing guild job would have to suffice for a while longer._

_

* * *

_

"That was a gift from Ensetsu. To me." Grawp said sternly. "He knew that I would continue to train in the arts of ninjutsu, no matter if I was turned down by the Tenshoso, or if anyone tried to discourage me... he told me... 'a ninja is nothing without his tools'.

"That old fart isn't affiliated with us," Suunya said flatly. "I don't know what you intend to prove."

"He continued to train me, long after then. I trained, and exercised, and practiced, in the hopes I would someday become an elite guard for the guild. No matter what I did, you'd be there at that goddamn desk of yours, turning me down."

"Oh, please," Suunya hissed. "Don't start this 'but I'm a ninja' crap again. If you can't get by me, you don't get in the Tenshodo, enough said. Everyone fails sometimes... you just fail a little more, GALKA."

Grawp loosened up.

"You know why the Humes give galkas the names they do? It's not out of courtesy, it's to give a clear-cut indication of their habits, goals, and attitude. A Raging Shadow is not a quiet one... idiot. Make yourself useful and go mine some friggin' ore."

"SHADDUP!" Grawp roared, raising his arms. Hooked cables tore out from under his sleeves, destroying the cobblestone as they ripped across it. Suunya smirked, leaping high into the air as they exploded out from under her, grabbing and biting at her. She spun in the air, her arms a blur. Grawp heard the tell-tale screaming of metal in the air, and rocketed back as sparks danced across the ground. Shuriken rattled to a dead stop on the stone. Grawp's hands flashed to his pockets, but he stopped as a sharp ring echoed in front of him.

"Still talking." Suunya purred. "Grawp, Grawp, Grawp. Why do you never learn... it doesn't particularly matter how fast you can compute all of this in your mind... your clumsy frame can never carry out your thought fast enough to be useful... no matter how little you think. Take me, for instance, who thinks your little buddy should keep his nose out of other peoples' business."

Blitzen stood further behind the two, wheezing. Taking a deep breath, he slowly drew out his sword. "...Grawp... I never would've known you to be that kind of person..."

Grawp sighed.

"...y'know..." Blitzen stepped forward. "I've talked to you, now, how many times personally... I don't think I ever heard you tell me you were a ninja."

"...it would have been bad for me to tell you."

"Why's that?" Blitzen mumbled.

"...because..." Grawp's head sunk. "...I don't know if you would have taken me seriously."

"Seriously? All you gotta do is totally leave me in the dust like you just did, and I'd be convinced you were superhuman."

"You heard everything I said, Blitzen. People would never have thought that a Galka possessed agility and finesse of a ninja... very much the same way that people would never suspect a Tarutaru of holding the strength and skill with weaponry that you do. When I say that I see a little of you in me... that's what I speak of."

Blitzen blinked. "...huh?"

"You told me of your story, and I realized I was very much the same person inside... never appreciated, never understood, and always striving to be better. That's what made me put you in the smithy, I knew you'd get better with time, because you would never give up. I wanted to learn more about you, and about your fighting ability... because I knew for sure, when the Musketeers gave me direct orders to keep a close watch on you, that the story you had given me was false."

"Hurry up and kiss." Suunya growled. She rattled the kunai.

Grawp's eyes closed. "You don't give up, I don't give up, it's nice to see that kind of strength outside of yourself, y'know?" Tears formed.

Blitzen paused for a moment, smiling to himself. "...well, for starters, it's good to see you hadn't given up before I arrived."

"Huh?" Suunya's face twitched - moments before a hook dug into her back, dragging her back and slamming her into the ground. The kunai spun across the ground, which Grawp dove to retrieve. Rolling, he quickly knelt back up. By the time he got his bearings, Suunya had managed to escape from her bindings, letting out a wheeze as she held her arms up in a combat stance. "Bastard..."

"Of course, Suunya... I knew you were never a close combat person." Grawp smirked. "I'm willing to bet I CAN be faster than you in such a situation."

"RGGAH!" Suunya lanced forward, snapping her leg up in a flash. Blitzen saw little but a blur between the two as Suuna put her weight back on her other foot, leaping forward in a flurry of punches. The attack quickly ground to a halt as Grawp grappled onto Suunya's outstretched arm, sending an elbow straight into her face. The crude blow sent her flying to the ground, but she simply cartwheeled back onto her feet, hurling several more daggers.

Grawp flipped a small brass canister in front of him, swinging it down in front of him. The device exploded in a cloud of smoke, and the air around him howled. The projectiles harmlessly flew off in random directions. Grawp let out a hack as Suunya dove in through the smokescreen, drilling her fist into his face. As Grawp stumbled back Suunya delivered several more vicious hooks into his chest, finally flooring him with an uppercut. Grawp pawed his face, blood slowly drizzling from his mouth. He let out a cough as Suunya kicked his flank.

"I've told you once, I've told you this a million times..." Suunya's grin grew wider with each kick. "I'm not particularly interested in how much of a calculating mind you have... because in the end, you don't have the hands to keep up with it. Galka."

"Maybe I don't." Grawp muttered.

"Die, you fr-"

"Destination?" Blitzen held up the rope, pointing the hook at Suunya's back again. The teeth reacted accordingly, clamping down on her skin. Suunya let out a cry of pain, before glaring back at Grawp with burning eyes.

"But I still have a calculating mind."

Grawp snapped his wrist up. Suunya let out an ear-piercing screech as the rope twisted to his will, slamming her face straight into the granite guardrail, and lazily tossing her over the edge. Grawp slowly stood up, retracting the rope back under his sleeves as he and Blitzen glanced over the edge. The water basin must have been at least 80 feet below them.

"Think that'd do some damage?" Grawp mumbled.

"Pain." Blitzen said flatly.

* * *

The Steaming Sheep was unusually busy that night. Another packed airship crashed down in the blue ocean waters of Port Bastok, dropping off travelling adventurers, businessmen, precious cargo and foodstuffs, and the regular band of mithra that would go on to be harassed for the rest of the night at said tavern. 

"Anything for you two?" The blonde-haired elvaan continued polishing the mugs behind the counter, as he had been for most of the night.

"We're good for now." Grawp held up the bottle, pouring more liquor into his own mug. The bottle was still half full of Sauromugue Stout. It wasn't a container that fitted the drink, being tall and slim, and the neck was barely wide enough to get the foam out. Blitzen glanced at it, expecting it to shatter under the Galka's iron grip, before staring back at his unused mug.

"I'm thinking." Blitzen sighed.

"Don't think too much, people'll think you're a Taru." Grawp mumbled, taking a long sip.

"Know what you mean." Blitzen shuffled the cup around in his hands.

"Don't decide too long, last call's coming up."

"Not that."

"Is there something you want to say?" Grawp turned his head down to Blitzen.

"About earlier today," Blitzen spoke as if the words pained his throat on the way out. "When you said that people think Galka can't have dexterity, and Tarus can't have strength... I never woulda figured you were thinking the exact same way as me when I walked into the smithing guild that day. Though you sure didn't talk like it..."

"When I lost faith in my ability to change myself, I lost faith in others. But you proved me wrong once again. I think that if I apply myself once more, I can improve my ninjutsu further... and while there is the possibility I may not be as quick on my feet as some people, I will continue to be the best I can be. I hope you feel the same way about yourself."

"Definately."

"But you still have some doubt."

"Huh?" Blitzen twitched.

"What really happened when you left Windurst, and what does San d'Oria have to do with it?"

Blitzen stared down at the table some more, before reaching over and dragging the bottle of Stout over to him. He let a little drizzle in his cup, and drank it fast before letting out a dull sigh. "...you happen to remember what I said before, right..."

"Yeah."

"About when I fought beastmen at the age of fourte-"

Grawp's arm flew up, backhanding Blitzen out of his chair. Patrons stepped back as he crashed into the wall, collapsing like a rag. He slowly shoved his way back to his feet, snarling. "What the HELL was THAT for!"

"You've already lost once," Grawp took a long drink, still staring forward. "And now you want to challenge me on my own terms? Get lost, _ninja_."

"You'll regret that, Grawp," the figure hissed, slowly melting away into thin air before exploding in a cloud of smoke. "You'll regret it."

Blitzen stuck his head over the bar counter on the other side of the room. "Safe to come out?"

Grawp ground his teeth. "...yeah, she's gone. That Suunya... she's a crafty one... well, I suppose you must be, to be in the Tenshodo... or be a ninja. Didn't think she'd resort to using shadow clones in a crowded place." he stood up, holding out the toppled chair for Blitzen. "She knew about you not liking to drink, and wasn't even hesitant to talk about your past... but, I knew the real Blitzen would be too pissed off about it to forget what he said earlier about it."

"You want me to continue?" Blitzen sighed, seating himself.

"What's there to say..." Blitzen turned his mug upside down. "I failed magic class, and I ran away from home, but everything beyond that is a lot more complicated to explain..."

* * *

_"Hm. He's been out like a light for hours. Would have figured as much."_

_"He did lose quite a bit of blood... but I think he should be in stable condition now."_

_"All this without a medic... good work, everyone."_

_Blitzen slowly faded back into consciousness. The sky was still blue, apparently. Slowly a black orbiting object overhead came into focus - a buzzard. A buzzard? Where was he? He slowly began to sit up, but was slowly forced back to the ground by one of the men kneeling by him._

_"Don't move around too much, those bandages aren't too high-quality." Blitzen tilted over, looking into his face - it was a red-and-silver chainmailed elvaan, with dull grey hair that seemed to ignore any light around it. His cold blue eyes twitched as Blitzen slumped to the ground again. Blitzen slowly raised his hand, letting it fall limp on his chest. It slowly pulsed blue as he tried hard to force out some white mana. "...ah, you've got some white magic, I see... would be expected of a taru... should speed up your recovery some."_

_"...w-where am I..." Blitzen groaned._

_"You're right in the asscrack of Kolshushu, boy. Bottom of Tahrongi. You found a good place to pass out, if you didn't have that mesa over there giving you cover..." the soldier pointed off to a rock formation nearby. "...that dust storm we just had would have scraped you up a little more than you are now... not to mention the wildlife would notice you a little more..."_

_Blitzen let out a dull wheeze, and the pulsing energy from his hand faded._

_"...hm... even I can sustain a mana mending longer than he can... no matter."_

_"Is he up yet, Moleinux?" a large, sleek elvaan stood over the other side of Blitzen, his arms folded. His jet black hair was tied back in a long ponytail that fell long down his back._

_"He's in pretty rough shape, Eluion," Moleinux murmured. "We should be able to stabilize him here, but it'd be best if we get him to an outpost nearby."_

_"Are you crazy?" Eluion scoffed. "You want us to just stroll up to the nearest Windurstian midget depository and say 'sorry for marching around on your land and such on uninvited recon, can you take care of this brat for me'? For all they know they'll probably assume WE'RE the ones who injured him!"_

_Moleinux let out a dull sigh. "Selfish as usual, Eluion, but your second point is a valid one. We will take care of him for now... and decide where to take him later..."_

_"N-not... home..."_

_"Home..." Moleinux leant down again. "Where's home?... bah, he's out again."_

_"Little delinquent ran away from home," Eluion grunted. "Might as well just leave him here to rot, that's what I would do to my son."_

_Blitzen drifted off. His father would have said the same thing anyways._

_Days came and went, and Blitzen ended up staying with the two elvaan until he was able to move on his own again. One morning he sat upright in his cot, in their plain leather-banded tent, as windstorms continued to thrash about outside. Moleinux stuck his tongue out, slowly unwinding the bandages that were strapped around and across Blitzen's torso. "...ah, I think that should do it for now... could use some ointment though."_

_Blitzen nodded to Moleinux as he stood up to move to his own tent. Long, late-night discussions had revealed the two's plan - they were recon for the Royal Knight division of San d'Oria's forces, assigned, for now, to keep a steady eye on the Aragoneau and Kolshushu regions for Windurstian activity. For what purpose he didn't feel like intruding on, as they were the ones that got him back on his feet - and they kept away from Windurstian settlements in their travels north back they way they came, which greatly speeded his escape._

_Moleinux creeped back into the tent, carrying a small canister with him. "I sure don't know how you managed to escape from a yagudo with such few wounds... but you must've got in quite a scrape with it, the bronze blade you were carrying was greatly damaged... bloodied..."_

_"It was hard to kill." Blitzen said flatly._

_"...ah." Moleinux blinked. He knelt down, padding the powder against Blitzen's scars. Blitzen winced as the ointment quickly begun its work. "...even if we didn't get any information on any traveling War Warlocks of Windurst, there has certainly been an increasing number of yagudo traveling in the area... you were lucky you only had to deal with one."_

_"There were three."_

_"...and what happened to them?"_

_"Dead too."_

_Moleinux raised an eyebrow. "...really... well, we should start packing if we want to get beyond Drogaroga's Spine tod-"_

_"Damned vermin!" Eluion bellowed._

_"What's going on!" Moleinux growled, quickly striding out of the tent. Blitzen hopped off his bed, following as fast as his weary legs could carry him. They both stumbled as they set foot outside, quickly realizing what was happening. Half a dozen of the avian beastmen Yagudo stood poised upon a ridge high above the trench where the camp was settled, all painted differently. Some stood relaxed, some stood with their staves and blades ready, while the wind continued to rumble. Their aged, grey feathers slowly rustled in the breeze._

_"We were being tracked," Eluion mumbled, glancing over his shoulder. "There should have been no way they would have found us in this crevasse!"_

_"Countless times you have spilled our brothers' blood in your travels..." the lead bird hissed before drawing its wakizashi. "...leave this place!"_

_Eluion let out another harrumph, drawing his longsword from his hip. "You'd kill us either way."_

_"Gah-hk!" another yagudo chirped. "Glad to see you've got your priorities straight!" All six leapt down the side of the rock face, skidding down on their taloned feet. Eluion grimaced as he lunged forward at the lead beastman, ready to deliver a fatal cleave before the others could assume a battle-ready position. He tripped, planting his face into the ground as a dart pierced into his leg._

_"...ugh..." Eluion grunted as he yanked the sharpened metal out of his leg, eyeing the dull green liquid on its tip mixing with his blood. "...guerilla tactics like usual." He turned his head slowly, noting the yagudo sitting on the other side of the gap in the ground._

_"This poison will slowly paralyze your lower body... not enough to incapacitate you, of course... heed this warning, and leave these lands before we truly find something to be angr-" the bird raised his staff in a flash, a loud chunk echoing out into the air as Moleinux drove his own sword against it. "...gutsy."_

_Blitzen's eyes gaped as he jumped forward. "WATCH OUT!"_

_Moleinux's face turned pale "...urgnnh!"_

_The yagudo behind him lunged forward, ripping straight through his back with a spinning slash from its katana. Moleinux let out a hack as he fell forward onto his knees, twitching as he pivoted to face the enormous blood stain forced out onto the ground._

_"Do you hear..." the yagudo's head shook._

_"Warlock patrol..." all at once the birds leapt up into the air, back from where they came, leaving the two elvaan down, injured, and Blitzen with his lips trembling and his arm outstretched._

_"Take care of Moleinux!" Eluion growled. "I'm... fine, just need to get enough white mana to clean this out..." Eluion slowly reached down to his legs, holding his hands tightly over where the poisoned dart pierced him._

_"What do I do!" Blitzen rushed over to Moleinux, who was rapidly losing consciousness. Blitzen rolled him over, jumping back as blood slowly drained onto his hands._

_"You're a goddamned tarutaru!" Eluion yelled. "Suppress the bleeding with your white mana!"_

_Blitzen's face turned cold._

_

* * *

_

"Maybe I should've went to magic school more." Blitzen laughed harshly.

"What happened then?" Grawp leant forward, leaning his chin on his hand.

"What do you think?" Blitzen grumbled. "I had absolutely no white magic training to speak of. I knew enough to patch up a cut or relieve pain, but I couldn't do freaking surgery! I had no way of healing an injury like that, like a combat medic or something!"

Grawp stared sadly at Blitzen. "And?"

Blitzen sighed, suddenly falling back in his chair. He stared at the floor for a moment. "...I just stood there. Watching him."

* * *

_"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" Eluion screamed, slowly worming his way over to the two._

_Blitzen dropped to his knees, quickly flooding mana into his hands - he slammed it down onto Moleinux's chest. Energy pulsed out - but not more than the trickle that he had seen every time he used it to mend a cut, or soothe a bruise._

_"...ungh." Moleinux coughed. "...not too good... with white magic, are you?"_

_"...n-no." Blitzen sputtered. "I'm trying, and trying, but the blood just doesn't stop coming out..."_

_"Oh.. well..." Moleinux chuckled. "...to be perfect-ly honest... I'm not much of a pro.. myself."_

_"Hang in there..." Blitzen mumbled, still slowly feeding the mana in. Moleinux slowly climbed back to his feet, shuddering as he stood forward, hunching down. Blitzen still keep his palm firmly on his back._

_"We have to get out of here," Eluion grumbled. "I hear marching. Those yagudo were fleeing from a War Warlock brigade."_

_"We're both wounded." Moleinux spat. "Will we be able to get away?"_

_Eluion held his hand firmly on his wound, slowly focusing his own energy to nullify the poison. Slowly, he too got up to his feet. "We can make a break for Jeuno at this rate... hopefully we'll be able to make it. We will need to leave our belongings here, however..."_

_"Let's just move..." Moleinux sighed. "...alright, Blitzen... hop up, and don't stop channeling..." Blitzen quickly climbed onto his back._

_"I'll try to hold it at bay..." Blitzen grumbled._

_"Blitzen." Moleinux whispered._

_"...hmm?"_

_"...I.. know you won't be able to build up enough energy to seal the wound... just keep it from bleeding, hopefully there'll... will be someone in Jeuno that can take care of ittt-GAAHH!..." Eluion lurched forward, feeling the pain cut through him again. "...let's get the hell out of here!"_

_Blitzen held on for dear life as the two jogged out of the area, limps showing in both the elvaans' movements. He glanced over his shoulder, finally noticing the rising cloud of dust in the distance - people had, in fact, been coming for them. Hopefully his guardians would be able to keep up their escape long enough to lose them._

_

* * *

_

"People flooding in and out of the airship docks were shocked to see an elvaan simply charge in through the Sauromugue Champaign gate and simply dive to the ground." Blitzen mumbled. "That entire way I was trying to suppress the wound and any pain associated with it, but a day's blind charge across Sauromugue had drained all of our stamina... especially Moleinux's. The entire way, I wasn't sure if I could keep him in stable condition, let alone keep him moving."

"What happened to the two?" Grawp was fidgeting with his mug now very much in the same way Blitzen was to begin with.

"Guards helped us up and we simply made a b-line for a public infirmary in Upper Jeuno. Hopefully we'd get the rest we needed. It was my first time seeing the epic city, but sightseeing would have to wait until we were a little further away from death."

* * *

_A tall elvaan sat at his oak desk, drumming his fingers on the table next to him. He glared at Blitzen, who was knelt down in from of him, wheezing for breath. A nurse walked in, and the doctor turned his head, his ivory-white hair and accompanying ponytail swaying with him. He motioned her in, and she hoisted Blitzen up, placing him atop a nearby recliner._

_"...you said these two were from San d'Oria?"_

_"That's... what they told me." Blitzen sighed wearily._

_"Well, that's interesting to note. If the War Warlocks found any trace of San d'Orian activity in their own homeland they would be in an uproar by now. Those arrogant Royal Knights can't keep their noses out of anyone's business."_

_"Monberaux." the receptionist stuck her head in. "The two Royal Knights have been placed in room 3."_

_He stood up, striding around her and out the door. Blitzen followed. "Their condition?"_

_"One has a small quantity of paralysis infection within his left leg, I would imagine that it had been weakened with a weak form of antivenom magic. The other had taken a massive blade wound to his back, and he is greatly weakened, and does not show signs of improving. I took a good look at him and he had been severely oversedated with weak white magic - his injuries had not improved at all. His hastened return here, if the tarutaru's story is correct, has only worsened his condition."_

_Blitzen's heart stopped. Monberaux slowly glanced over his shoulder, frowning at him. "I will take a closer look."_

_A closer look was taken. Blitzen continued to pace feverishly outside the closed room, while other Jeunonians wandered in and out of the small medical facility. After what seemed like an eternity, Blitzen jumped in place as a hand was placed down on the top of his bushy hair. He spun around, clenching his fists as he glared back up at the nurse. "What's going on? How are they?"_

_"You've been extremely drained by burning through so much mana, coupled with your long trip here. If I were you I'd rest for a bit... before you break down."_

_"Just tell me what's going on!"_

_The nurse stared at him sadly, stepping aside and opening door #3. Blitzen leapt through, stumbling as he stopped. The small room housed two cots, one for Eluion, one for Moleinux. Eluion stared up at the celing, a blank look on his face. He seemed back to normal. Moleinux, however, still stared at the wall with a pale, paralyzed expression. There were small, but noticable, blood spots on the carpet beneath his bed. Monberaux sat on a stool by Moleinux, continuing to check his pulse in various spots. Slowly the medic's head sunk, and he stood again._

_"Did you manage to do anything with them!" Blitzen yelled. "Answer me!"_

_"I've done nothing." Monberaux said flatly. "I've only made estimates."_

_"Eluion, you are free to go." the attendant said sharply._

_Eluion never moved, his breathing now audible._

_"Moleinux has lost too much blood." Monberaux said wearily, turning back to him. "It's a miracle he got all the way to Jeuno in the state he was, with these injuries."_

_"What's that supposed to mean!"_

_"If there had been a qualified medic at the scene, the wound could have been repaired immediately, or at least all blood flow could have been stopped with paralysis arts. But all that had been done here was some simple Cures. Whoever took care of Moleinux did so in a crude, and actually destructive, manner."_

_Blitzen's pupils shrank. Trembling, he slowly turned to Eluion._

_"I'm sorry, you two." Monberaux drew up his sleeves, his own sleeves. His hands pulsed with a brigther light than Blitzen had ever seen. Staring at the two sadly, he rested his palms on the armorless victim. "The most I can do now is give him a more comfortable release."_

_Blitzen stared at Eluion._

_

* * *

_

"Do you know what I saw in those eyes?" Blitzen held his mug close to his mouth.

Grawp stared at Blitzen, disturbed. "...I.. shouldn't have touched this subject."

"Hatred."

* * *

_"Where is your magic?" Eluion said weakly._

_Blitzen's face twitched, and his eyes gleamed. He wasted no more time, turning around and plowing through the nurse in his mad escape._

_"Wait!" Monberaux shouted, standing quickly. His commands fell on deaf ears._

_

* * *

_

"My trip in Jeuno was over."

Grawp stared into thin air. "...I suppose if someone wishes to hide their past so badly, it's for a reason... I apolgize if I had to force that out of you... I think I'm beginning to understand your resentment of magic now."

"Enlighten me."

"Because you did so poorly in magic school, the one time you had to employ white magic to save someone's life, you failed. And, yet again, everyone was convinced you were a Tarutaru failure because of it. Your magical ineptitude cost Eluion's friend his life. Because you believed you were worthless, you simply shunned magic outright and tried to focus on something else to make your trade in, like you had before you left magic school to begin with."

"That's right." Blitzen appeared hollow once more. "...I made my own trip away from Jeuno, once more. I left in a random direction... with that blade you saw, simply cutting down everything and everyone that got in my way. I picked up a weapon when I first left Windurst, and I was determined to practice it, work with it, master it. Just so I had something to believe in. That path lead me to Bastok, after my passion had died down and I simply wanted to relax in a place where no one knew me."

"That still doesn't explain why your sword has the San d'Orian royal emblem." Grawp interjected.

"That's because.. that was Moleinux's blade. The only thing I managed to salvage out of the caravan before we abandoned it. I looked at it, and simply thought that it was too much of a thing of beauty to leave rusting in the Tahrongi duststorms. Again Moleinux fought with it, and in the end, it was entrusted to me." Blitzen slowly raised the blade out of its holster, letting it lie on the table. The metal still gleamed as it always had. "At the bottom of the blade, OATHKEEPER is inscribed. What a joke." Blitzen laughed harshly to himself. "Of all the people for this sword to fall into the hands of, the person who couldn't even save his friend's life. I wouldn't call that keeping an oath."

"You did make the attempt, even if you knew it might not have been possible," Grawp leant forward on his arms, folded on the table. "I would say that's worth points right there. I think it's time that you stop dwelling on this, and look at what you're doing now. You've already wowed Bastok with your efforts in the smithy, and your stunt with the Iron Musketeers. You're obviously capable of something, even if you can't decide what it is. If a Galka can move like the wind, I'm pretty sure you can do great deeds of any sort if you put your mind to it."

"And that's what I've decided on... it's just hard to get over all that stuff in the past..." Blitzen mumbled.

"But, this still leaves one thing answered."

"Whassat?" Blitzen slurred.

"Why do you think San d'Oria's after you?"

"Hell if I know," Blitzen grumbled. "...maybe Eluion wants his revenge, I don't know, maybe this sword is valuable property... whatever it is, I'm not letting it get me down."

"You've put it to good use. I'm sure Moleinux would be happy to know his sword is in busy hands."

"A while ago you asked me if I wanted to join the Musketeers, or Legionnaires, or something," Blitzen picked up the blade, examining it in the light. "...but, I dunno what I want to become... I just want to do something I'm good at..."

"Maybe you simply want to be a warrior."

Blitzen froze, glancing over to Grawp.

Grawp smiled. "Well, if you're a complete ditz at magic, I'm sure people would appreciate you putting your other talents to good use. You keep saying how you sling that damn blade of yours around, and you've never received and flak for that, have you? Cutting down those yagudo? Fighting through the wilderness, defending people you care about, making an ass out of uppity soldiers..."

"...I.. I never thought about it that way..." Blitzen finally grinned. Climbing onto his chair he thrust his finger into Grawp's face. "Teach me how to be a warrior!"

Every last person in the tavern stared at him blankly.

Blitzen glared daggers.

"How in the hell should I know!" Grawp bellowed. "I just about broke my back in that scrap with little-miss-ninja back there!"

Blitzen rocked back and forth in his chair, his beady eyes staring intently at Grawp. "...well, what should I do then..."

"You know the Galka, right..." Grawp ruminated. "...I mean, the history of the Galka. They were, by definition, a race that was turned vastly warlike and hurled into battle when the Antica destroyed our ancestors' homes on the island of Zepwell... there's tales upon legends upon myths upon stories of powerful Galkan battle lords mastering weaponry to fight for their homeland... that is all history, of course. But even now, Galkas in all shape and form have some fighting in their blood... you simply have to know how to unveil it."

"What are you suggesting?" Blitzen sighed.

"If you are so intent on becoming what people call a warrior, you would do well by consulting with the Galkans." Grawp unfurled a small scrap of parchment, scribbling on it with a pencil. "You'd do well to speak with the Talekeeper."

Blitzen took the paper, glancing over it. "The Talekeeper's like the master chief of the Galka, right? I heard stuff about him in the smithies, but I don't know much beyond that..."

"He is a great seer who possesses more knowledge of the Galkan race, and the history of it, than any Galka confesses to. He'd be able to point you in the right direction, and he might be able to look up some Galka willing to pass on their skills, or at least tell you a good story."

"I'll... keep that in mind." Blitzen pocketed the address.

"Last call!" the barkeep shouted above the dull mumbling of the tavern patrons - which quickly escalated into chaos.

"'ey!" Blitzen shouted, raising his finger. "I want a Smokestack back here!"

"Gotcha!" the elvaan girl behind the counter yelled back.

Grawp grinned. "Well, that's certainly not like you."

"What can I say," Blitzen smiled. "I'm not technically your everyday taru anymore." He pushed his chair back as the woman strode up to the table, slamming the glass of oily liquid down upon it.

"Need a light, cutie?"

"Always." Blitzen watched as the elvaan took a candle off the wall, sending the floating slime juice up in a cloud of smoke before Blitzen reached forward for the mug. He took a long drink from it - and nearly coughed his guts out.

Grawp sighed disgustedly.

* * *

Comments? Queries? Death threats?  
keyvanualberta.ca 

**(Well, hopefully that wasn't too confusing, leaping around timeframes like a feral rat... might be a bit troublesome.)**


	4. Discrepancies

Blitzen stared dully out the nearby window, squinting as he realized that was where the sun beamed directly into the room. He shook his head as a series of thuds and crashes erupted from behind the nearby counter. He straightened himself on his stool as a young blue-eyed Tarutaru woman walked back into the foyer, wrapped in a plain white tunic and accompanying slacks. She hopped back onto her stool immediately across from Blitzen's, and the two made eye contact before Blitzen's gaze wandered back to the endless heaps of tomes and scroll binders on the other side of the cashier. 

"Hello-mellow, Blitzen-y!" Sororo bubbled. "It's so good that I'm able to talk-ity to someone already about the cashier position-y at my humble store-ity... just last week my old Hume-ity said she had to move to the big city-ity and I need-weeded to fill in right away, and..."

Blitzen continued to stare and nod, trying not to cringe at the overwhelmingly Windurstian accent Sororo poured all over him.

"...and then she wreck-ied our stock of Stone scriptures because she stayed inside on her smoke break, and..." Sororo took a deep breath. "...I'm sorry, I'm getting ahead of myselfy... anyways... can you tell me a little more about yourselfy? What experience do you have with magicy?"

Blitzen winced. He was starting to get better control over his impulse to reach out and strangle people when they dropped the m-bomb; he'd already had to swallow his pride during his job hunt, as upon leaving the smithy he very quickly realized exactly how little there was to do in Bastok that wasn't back-breaking mine work, and for now he would have to kiss rear to make ends meet... at least until he had a little more reputation anyways. "...I don't have much." he blatantly lied.

Sororo frowned. "Well that's too baaaaad... it's no matter-natter... I can teachy you a few of the lesser spells... sometimes the customers want a little-wittle demonstration. Ohhh, I'm not sure if I mentioned this before... I'll be all the more glady to take you on right away, but, I'm afraidy all I can have you do is manage-panage the black magic tome sales and rentals... I filled my white magicy salesperson position shortly before you arrived today."

Blitzen's head tilted over as Nanono stumbled through the lane behind the counter carrying a tower of books. "W-where do you want-t these?"

"Third shelf from the back, hun." Sororo said over her shoulder.

Nanono moved the books away from her face for a moment, her face turning a thick shade of red as she saw Sororo chatting and laughing with someone. She made a quick u-turn in the tiny width provided to her, and charged again into the back rooms. Moments later another pattern of crashes echoed out from the back chambers.

"That's the girl I ran into the other day." Blitzen said blankly.

"Found a sweety-heart already?"

"No, literally." Blitzen spurted. "...weird I'd see her again so soon. I dunno why, but I feel like I've met her somewhere else before."

"She's been acting pretty antsy lately," Sororo leant forward. "There's pleeeeeenty of gossipy going on around that last night somebody broke-woke into her residence through the back window and left with nothing but her underweary drawer! She reported it to the galkan guardy that patrol-wols that area but it got passed onto the neighborhood watch anyways. Welllllllll, from the evidencey gathered by the watch, some drunk hooligans must've gotten in-y and..."

"Waterday's fine?" Blitzen interrupted.

Sororo stopped for a second, eventually nodding. "That'd be finey."

Blitzen quickly waved himself off, and once again hurled open the heavy wooden doors of the shop. He quickly moved forward and hopped down the steps of the small terrace the building sat on, and as he turned left to head underneath a wing of the Metalworks to take another flight of stairs down to the residential sector, Grawp moved up alongside him.

"So that's where magic Blitzen is hiding." Grawp sighed, shaking his head.

"Aren't you the one with a day job?" Blitzen shot back. "What are you doing here?"

"I was on break and couldn't help but notice you preventing yourself from vomiting before entering the local scribery," Grawp muttered. "that and you've already turned every merchant in Bastok upside down looking for a job. The guy at Dragon's Claws said you sounded a little desperate."

"I have enough money to pay for another 4 weeks of rent but I don't feel easy not actually having any income. Hey, you know, when I was in Sororo's, I saw that girl I ran into yesterday stocking the shelves."

"Found a sweetheart already?"

Blitzen ran a hand down his face. "No. She brutally maimed my face, that's why I decided to bring the topic up. What is with you, anyways? You make it sound like there's no females of my sex around here to begin with."

"I imagine there's some. They're all busy casting spells though."

"URRRRGHH." Blitzen picked up his pace. "What did you catch up to me for, anyways..."

"Well, I knew you wouldn't bother going down to Ore Street to contact the Talekeeper, so I made an appointment for you."

Blitzen stopped midstride and looked over his shoulder. "Wha?"

"You already know the address. Head there at 20:00 tonight, and don't keep him waiting. He directly said that he had someone that he wanted you to meet." Grawp nodded to Blitzen. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I have some peons to whip. And for future reference, you really SHOULD get laid, it's starting to show in your complexion."

Blitzen ground his teeth. "Why is a Galka telling me this."

"Shows how little you know." A grin threatened to split Grawp's stony face in two. He slowly pivoted around, waving over his shoulder as he walked back off towards the Metalworks. Blitzen sulked as he watched the giant casually slump away into the distance. Slowly, he himself pivoted around and began to walk away towards the archway opening that seperated the districts of Bastok. As he did though, he found himself crawling to a stop again. Blitzen-Aitzen felt unusually good. As he took a moment to think about it, it hadn't been the only time in the past week that he'd found his life unusually stable. But, at the same time, he still deemed it good luck that he had been able to get on good standing with someone that had experiences similar to his. The more he ran that through his mind, the more he realized that he'd been particularly dumb the entire time - if the general populace believed him to have a personal quality that was the actual opposite of what he represented, that meant that there had to be at least one person that was experiencing the reverse.

Blitzen tilted his head. He had a good friend. He lifted his legs and slowly spun around in place, cupping his hands to his mouth as he shouted to Grawp off in the distance. "HEY!" Grawp stopped, turning in the same manner. He had a puzzled look on his grizzly face. "You wanna go back for a drink after we sort out this meeting crap?!"

Grawp flinched. He stared at the ground, then back to Blitzen again. "Hmm... okay. It can't be too late though, I have to open tomorrow before noon."

Blitzen nodded, waving Grawp off again. As Grawp disappeared around a corner, Blitzen let his hands rest on his hips. It felt good to be able to make an invitation like that for once.

* * *

Volker sat with his elbows resting on the immigration office counter, watching the first and last orb of a ball metronome click back and forth. His eyes slowly rolled over as the door of the chamber slowly swung open, Iron Eater striding through. Their eyes met for a moment before Volker went back to his intense surveying. Soon Iron Eater himself found his eyes gravitating to the device, and continued to watch it for a few seconds before shaking his head. "The Senate meeting isn't for another hour," the galkan Musketeer murmured. "...I know you enjoy being punctual but this is going a little overboard." 

"This thing is marvelous," Volker mumbled. "Someone picks up one end, they let it go, and time can march on as much as it wants - this little closed system can keep itself amused for hours. Don't you wish more things stayed the same?"

"I think you've already lost me."

"Even Bastok was nearly economically unstoppable at some point, but I'm sure you understand that our natural resources are getting a little on the dry side... well, compared to what we've seen as a collective nation, anyways. The darksteel yield from Zeruhn has fallen drastically since last year."

"To be perfectly honest," Iron Eater interjected. "that may have more to do with new and improved labor laws involving the Galkan populace than a mineral drought."

Volker sighed, slowly pressing himself off the counter and standing upright. "You're probably right. I don't want to argue about semantics though. I know about the empathy you have towards the Galka, yeah, that's definately a nobrainer... but, we obviously don't have the pull on the adventurer population that we used to have. The attendance at the Legionaire's Expedition was fairly pitiful. The consensus among the population of Bastok is that this is, well, that commercial city that isn't Jeuno, or to some people, a slag pit that sometimes has the decency to vomit up some iron and copper on a semiregular basis."

"Military recruitment has slowed drastically..." Iron Eater glanced over his shoulder, watching Naji as he drank from a water fountain out in the lobby. "...was there something you specifically had in mind?"

"Oh, nothing," Volker muttered. "I just thought that Bastok doesn't necessarily need to be famous for a large standing army, it just needs to be have a powerful presence, in security and diplomacy." Volker walked around behind the counter, reaching into one of the lower shelves and taking out an envelope. He dumped out several long, flat pieces of parchment, each with an artist's depiction of a Tarutaru with moppy brown hair. "Does this man look familiar to you?"

"He was participating in the Iron Musketeer Dethroning at the Exhibition, if I'm not mistaken. Is this a wanted poster?"

"I received this recently from the San d'Orian consulate. Years ago the relatives of a man named Eluion had placed a relatively high bounty on this Tarutaru's head, claiming that he was personally responsible for Eluion's murder. He's been a fugitive for several years now but seems to have had the guts to move into Bastok and assume no consequence would come of it. I would have had a chance to apprehend or at least intercept him immediately after his publicity stunt at the Exhibition, but I was afraid of causing a panic. While I am not 100 certain that the physical features of Blitzen-Aitzen match what's jotted down here, the fact that Blitzen is currently in ownership of a Royal Knight sword sounds skeptical enough to justify keeping a close watch on him. Until I see any conflicting evidence, or manage to squeeze a possible confession out of Blitzen, I will continue doing so. If I am able to bring in a convicted San d'Orian criminal, it should give a sizable boost to the Musketeers', and ultimately Bastok's, international reputation."

Iron Eater shrugged. "While I'd be honored to help in such an endeavour, so you honestly think that defeating one criminal on the lam will be enough to demonstrate Bastok's commitment to the other nations? Do you have any possible direction to go in after that?"

Volker bent down, lifting a large box out from underneath the counter. He dumped it on the floor, showering it in dozens, possibly hundreds of similarly-styled envelopes.

"These are all...?" Iron Eater's eyes flitted between the countless confidential files.

"I intend to bring this motion forward at the Senate meeting. With presidential consent, I wish to create an international law agency in coordination with Jeuno and the finest of our own Musketeer forces, as well as a wing of mercenary forces, in an alliance that would hunt serial and/or fleeing criminals of the nations. Regardless if other countries accept or deny our action, or even join us in it, we will stand as the perpetrators of this act. That alone will be enough to enhance the public image of Bastok."

"Well... I... er..." Iron Eater knelt down, sifting through the criminal profiles with his hands. "...this is all remarkable... but, is this all that the Mythril Musketeers will be presenting at this month's meeting? I still have a signed protest that I was wishing to present on the behalf of the residents of Ore Street, in the hope of possibly moving forward action towards creating more suitable housing for the workers of-"

"Time allowing. I'm sorry, friend, but if you'll excuse me for a bit... I have to piece together the last bits of my report. I'm sorry, can you tidy up these? I'll see you in an hour." Volker bowed, dodging clean around Iron Eater and escaping the office unscathed.

Iron Eater turned around, letting a cluster of envelopes drop out of his hand. The galkan guard looked visibly crushed. "...what has gotten into you, Volker..." Iron Eater gazed off into space for a moment, letting out a weak sigh before hunching down to shovel the papers back into the box they came from.

Volker, meanwhile, continued on his stride out of the presidential office, and gathered several stares from passerbys as he moved through the lane with the other consulate offices. "...I might not have a complete 100 valid reason to survey Blitzen, but now I know enough about him to keep as close tabs on him as I might need..."

* * *

Blitzen and Grawp stood in front of one of the rickety doors guarding one of the run-down Ore Street settlements. The cobbled stone walls were beginning to crack viciously, up to the point that it could probably swallow a small hand tool easily. Next to the door was a cluster of lightning crystals hanging on a string between a specially-carved bowl and a hole in the wall. The devices had already become a mainstay in the middle-class housing of Bastok, but less than half of the lower-income residences that made up the majority of Ore Street had the feature added. Speaking into the bowl would cause the voice to resonate out of a similar bowl inside the house, giving an identity. Peepholes served the same function of course, but while it was moderately easy for someone to create a visual illusion using magic, it was difficult to correctly mimic someone's speech pattern all the way through the machine in that manner. 

Blitzen glanced around both edges of the door. It was well-maintained compared to the rest of the structure around it. "What's this..."

Grawp shook his head. "It was the address that I was given..." he quickly straightened up as the wooden gate creaked open. Standing behind it was a galkan child, literally a third of Grawp's height - and only slightly taller than Blitzen himself.

"Ohhh. It's you." Gumbah bowed. "I heard on the grapevine that you were wanting some of my time... is this a friend of yours? Come on in."

Grawp bowed back before moving forward. Blitzen hesitantly followed. Inside was little different than any of the galkan homes on the Street, comprised of little more than some simple carpeting, bedding, a small range that barely contained enough room to prepare anything of value, and a cupboard of the same size but vertically - but what caught Blitzen's eye was the gargantuan bookcase on the opposite wall, which at first glance seemed to carry nothing but thick history and political textbooks. He glanced over to Grawp, who had already sat himself with his massive arms slumped down in front of him on the floor. Grawp exchanged Blitzen's stare with a nudge of his head. Blitzen took the signal and simply sat down on the ground where he was.

"Hot chocolate or tea?"

Grawp shook his head. "I'm fine." Blitzen again repeated.

"So then..." Gumbah turned back around from the range, tipping his mug from side to side. "...Grawp wanted to meet with me pretty badly, he said that he wanted to introduce you to me. Soooooo... who might you be, and what brings you here?"

"Blitzen-Aitzen... sir..." Blitzen was still fixated on the collection of books. He twitched and quickly fumbled back into place as he noticed Gumbah staring at him. "...I just came to Bastok to live, that's all. I've had bad life experiences in Windurst and San d'Oria seems to want me dead, so... yeah."

"You must have done something pretty intense to miff Windurst," Gumbah sat down across from his two visitors. "I've never heard of anyone actually being exiled, well, with the exception of a heretic summoner or two."

"I wasn't exiled. I just sorta ran away from home. I was never good at black or white magic and never had any interest in learning either, and I've been ridiculed about it all my life. I was constantly denied doing what I loved best and my parents were abusive about making sure that I passed the Academy and learned to their specifications..."

Grawp raised an eyebrow. _He never said anything about that..._

"Well, that's unfortunate to hear. I don't think I've actually met a Tarutaru willing to go those lengths to avoid use of magic. But if you were willing to shun that so badly, what was it that you wanted to do? What were skills that you wanted to show everyone?"

"Anything else." Blitzen shook his head. "Well... that brings me to my next point... Grawp's probably already told you why we're here today. I had to do a great deal of coping with the hazards of travel to get where I am today... I've been told that I am a decent fighter and, anyways, supposedly I need the blessing of the Galka to be considered a passable warrior in these parts. Grawp asked me if I wanted to train in that field, and he mentioned that the Talekeeper would be able to find me someone willing to take me as their apprentice."

"Are you looking to join the Bastokan military?" Gumbah said sternly.

"...I don't know." Blitzen sighed. "All I want to do is show people that I have that ability, and that I have something to offer people that isn't magic."

"You've come to the right place," Gumbah sighed weakly. He raised his arms in the air, letting them slump back down onto his knees. "How long have you been here?"

"Several weeks."

"Then you've undoubtedly seen how the Galka themselves are treated in light of the Humes," Gumbah took a long sip of his now rapidly cooling hot chocolate. "Maybe you don't realize it fully, but we are the target of a lot of abuse, moreso than the Republic is willing to bet on. If you're looking for an environment to learn to escape a preset notion about yourself, then living in Bastok will be an enlightening experience for you - for better or for worse. If you haven't noticed yet, we're all living the conflict that you yourself are in. While you say that you are nothing but a caster, the Galka are perceived as nothing but brutes and packhorses and laborers. So I personally think that staying in proximity of us will ultimately make you a better person."

Blitzen nodded. "I understand."

Gumbah smiled, nodding back. He slowly pushed himself back to his feet. "Now, I'm wondering where my guest went. There was another Galka here earlier that I wanted you to meet, but he said that he had to go check on something quickly. He was an Iron Musketeer that had been injured recently, and said that he'd be willing to train an apprentice warrior while he was mending his wounds. Now if I-" Gumbah was interrupted by another knock at the door. "Ah, that must be him. Excuse me." Blitzen and Grawp watched as Gumbah weaved between them and hurled the door open. "Why if it isn't..."

Sororo pivoted her head to look around both sides of the child Talekeeper. "Ohhhh... Blitzeny? Blitzeny? I was told-wold that you'd be herey... Blitzeny?"

Blitzen sighed. "What..."

Sororo courtseyed. "Excuse me, Mr. Talekeeper... I just wanted to have a word with Blitzen..."

"This had better be good." Blitzen slowly climbed to his feet.

Sororo waved a sheet of parchment in the air. "Excuuuuuse me, but we have a customer at the shopy that wants to make a couple-wouple purchases and he wants to knowy when he can get a tutory to make sure he knows how to use-muse the spells themselves. He wants Stone, Wate-"

"Let me see that." Blitzen snatched the sheet out of Sororo's hands. As he began to read it, his face contorted.

* * *

"Aerial Mace, huh?" Blitzen laughed. He folded up the sheet in his hands, stuffing it back into his pocket. 

Flying Hammer's face continued to twitch, looking like it was ready to breathe fire on everyone standing in front of him. The Galka was wrapped up in a tunic several sizes too big, even for the giant, and additional white cloth was wrapped over his mouth to further conceal his apperance. Blitzen, Gumbah and Grawp all stood in front of Flying Hammer outside of Sororo's scribery.

Gumbah stood limply with his arms folded. "Y'know, if you wanted to learn magic so bad, you could've fit it into your schedule a little better... we were waiting for you this entire time. And what is with that ridiculous outfit... do you need to hide your private magic lessons that badly?"

"Do you idiots have ANY idea how much fun it is to light a fire like this?!" Flying Hammer held up his left arm and unwrapped the tunic from it with his other hand - revealing a brightly-knit cast underneath. "Is it such a goddamn crime to learn Fire to make my life marginally easier due to an injury caused by this little shrimp? My livelihood and pride is already damaged, I don't need anything else screwing me ov-"

"Yes, yes, I know," Grawp rolled his eyes, letting his head roll around. "If any of the guys at the bar know you're doing this you'll be scarred for life. But I'm interested to know how you intend to start fires with rocks and water."

"Those are the spells... you need to master... before you can move onto Fire! I might be a rockhead but even I know this!" Flying Hammer snarled.

"That's how it always starts-smarts..." Sororo bubbled. "First Stone, then Water, then Aero, then Fire... then Blizzard, then Thunder, and then you wanna learny and learny and-"

"I WASN'T TALKING TO YOU!" Flying Hammer roared.

"Well I still hate to interrupt this, but you did promise that you would be willing to chat with whoever Grawp was bringing to me and get him into shape a little. So, how about you drop what you're doing and give Blitzen a hand?" Gumbah slowly started to turn around, continuing to watch over his shoulder. "I won't make any mention of what's going on here if you reeeeeeally want me to, but the others here might not be so merciful."

Blitzen's eyes rolled over to Gumbah, then back to Flying Hammer as Blitzen folded his arms. "By some freak coincidence, I do happen to work here and I'm in charge of the black magic sales and demoing. Don't give me that look, I already know you want to strangle me but you couldn't do it if you had two arms, let alone three. You're a flaming hypocrite, but I'm willing to make a deal here."

"What the hell do you want? Don't tell me you're still serious about making me tutor you." Flying Hammer slowly shook his disabled arm back into its sleeve.

"Actually, no, you'll find my terms are pretty agreeable. Firstly, given Sororo's permission, I'll beat you into shape until you get your elementary-school magic down pat. As well, Grawp here doesn't have to tell any of your friends down at the Metalworks what you really do with your vacation time. In exchange though, you'll be teaching me to handle whatever weapons that you are trained with."

"You really are persistent..." Flying Hammer growled. "If that information gets out, you'll be fileted on the spot, you got that?"

"There's nothing to be afraid of if you hold up your end of the bargain."

Sororo headed back into the shop while Blitzen and Flying Hammer continued to argue. She was ready to untie the latches holding the store's front doors open when she spotted Nanono resting her head on her hands on the counter. "...is something wrong deary?"

"...I dunno... something about the arrogance in that guy's voice sounds really familiar to me."

"The Galka?"

"No, the other guy you brought in to cover black magic sales and demos."

"You thinky you know-woah him?"

Nanono left an awkward pause hanging in the air. "...like I said... beats me."

"Well that's interesting to heary, because he saidy that you looked familiar to him too! He said you just crashy-nashed into him the other day as he was leaving his house."

"Oh. That guy." Nanono sighed wearily. "Yeah, I know what he's talking about now. That was nothing, we just picked ourselves up and we were on our way. I'm not sure how he caught my face actually, I just brushed straight him and kept on going... I didn't manage to see his."

Sororo tilted her head. She stuck a finger up, pulling down one of her eyelids. "Wellllll... just between you and me, he had this hollowy look-wook in his eyes, kind of like he was trying to graspy-masp soooome lost memory and trying to figure out whether-feather it was goody or baddy..."

Nanono sulked in her chair. "That doesn't make me feel any more comfortable."

"Blitzen-Aitzen his name was."

Nanono let the name play around in her mind, and after a dramatic pause (to Sororo anyways) she gazed back into her eyes. "...doesn't ring a bell."

"Well if it doesn't now-wow it will soon!" Sororo slammed a large white tome with a red emblem on it down onto the counter. "'cause you're gonna be the besty of coworkers!"

Nanono fidgeted uncontrollably.

* * *

Volker sat perched on top of a small building several levels down in the residential sector, peering over the edge guard with a small spyglass. He watched as a moogle slipped on a ragged leather cap, hanging a sign on the door it shut behind itself before absentmindedly floating off. Volker tuned the glass in further, and made out the letters on the hanging tablet: TENANT WILL BE BACK AT 23:00. He let the ornate contraption in his hands rest against the short stone hedge in front of him, and reached back around his head to grab a white-colored linkpearl. The device hung loosely off the left side of his collar. 

**I was right. Given that his rent was paid for the next 4 weeks, it turns out that he only has a part-time moogle.**

**That's fascinating. What do you want me to do?**

**Get in through the sunroof in the washroom. If you try to pick the front lock he might be able to determine that someone had broken in, regardless of how well you cover your tracks when actually inside. **Volker waited several minutes, idly tapping his fingers against the stone wall. Eventually he heard loud clicking and the loud clunk of the wooden-blinded panel being dislodged. Several thuds. After that, silence. **Are you in...**

**He only has a bachelor suite. I would've never guessed from the outside. I'm not seeing anything out of the ordinary.**

The black figure quickly glanced over everything in the room. Ayame slowly slid off her face mask as she relaxed again. An unmade bed and a shoddy maple taple covered in books and some loose metal bars were immediately visible. The fire in the cast-metal furnace on the far side of the room was slowly beginning to flicker to a stop, leaving only part of the room visible to the naked eye. She quickly moved about, tapping the walls and searching for hidden compartments. She eventually located two, one containing some spare gil that Blitzen had stowed away and another that contained a badly-finished photograph. She flapped in the air but still couldn't get a good view of what it was. Ayame looked over her shoulder as a glimmer of light pierced out from the darkness. She slowly began to creep towards it - and promptly tripped over a box on the floor, landing flat on her face.

* * *

Elsewhere, Blitzen drummed his fingers on the bar table. He looked over his shoulders every so often, receiving perplexed stares back from the Steaming Sheep patrons. The elvaan bartender bit her lip as her eyes met with Blitzen's, and she went back to serving a Galkan patron. 

"This feels kind of awkward. What's the deal with everyo..." Blitzen turned back forward to find that Grawp was giving him the same look. "...oh, now what."

"Ah, nothing," Grawp took a sip from his drink. "I know Flying Hammer was quick to blow you off and suggest that you both begin each others' training tomorrow, but I was surprised that you wanted to come back here so quickly."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Blitzen sighed. "There's people that come in here three, maybe four times a day. They don't get the silent treatment."

"Yeah, but they didn't drink as much as you either. Do you recall what you did last night?"

Blitzen opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated for a moment. "...I had a Smokestack, and then some stuff happened, and then I walked home. I didn't get roughed up."

"That little blur in your mind? That's the part where you got five more Smokestacks. And let me tell you, the stuff about blood alcohol content having less of an impact on people of higher body mass, that's the divine truth," Grawp mumbled back. "I was concerned that you were going to get thrown out on your ass back there. You did manage to walk out relatively conscious though. Did you even get a hangover?"

Blitzen stared down at his Smokestack. "...y'know, I can't even remember what happened before noon. I just sorta drug myself out of bed, rinsed myself off and took off for lunch."

Grawp stared distastefully at Blitzen.

Blitzen shook his head. "You yourself said I wasn't terminally drunk, what could I possibly have done?"

* * *

**Are you alright?** Volker muttered through the linkpearl. 

**I'm okay...** Ayame pushed herself up, planting one of her gloved hands against the carpet below - but found her other in something much softer. She fumbled on the ground for a bit, eventually managing to kneel up and lift the box up on top of the bed. She carried it closer to the fire and squinted as she stared down into it. Ayame raised an eyebrow, looking up and seeing one of the windows already broken.

**What are you looking at?** Volker spat.

**...panties.**

**There's a time and place for that, Ayame.**

**No, really, there's an entire drawer here full of them. They appear to be Tarutaru-sized... I'm looking around and the drawer doesn't seem to be from any of the furniture in this room... do you think they could be Blitzen's? It could be useful in identifying him if we know he's a cros-**

Volker meanwhile buried his face in one hand. **FINE. Fine. Take the panties with you. Just make sure that you're not missing anything important...**

Ayame set the drawer back down on Blitzen's bed, moving back towards the small shred of light on the other side of the room. She knelt down and ran her hand along it, quickly realizing what it was. Ayame raised her hand along it and gripped the handle of a large broadsword. She laid it down on the bed where she could examine it more thoroughly. **I've found the sword you said he had been using the night before. Like you said, it's a commissioned Royal Knight sword. It has something engraved on it.**

**That's peculiar. I'm fairly certain that is a federal offense in San d'Oria to physically modify weapons of the kingdom. What does it happen to say?**

**The light here is still a little weak... Oats... Oathkeeper.**

**That may be all that I need. Leave for now, I will handle this.  
**

* * *

Moments later a groggy Elvaan slumped towards the lobby of the San d'Orian consulate, shirtless and still rubbing the sleep and loose grey hair out of his green eyes as the doors threatened to blow off their hinges from Volker hammering on the other side. He reached down, fiddling with the complex locks that embraced any important government building. The knocks subsided, and the worker stepped back as Volker suddenly forced his way in. 

"...oh," Leurioun muttered. "It's one of you. What's going on? Is something happening?"

"I need to ask you an urgent question about the Royal Knights' policy on commissioned weapons." Volker barked.

"...so, you decided to come here in the middle of the night to talk to me about our freaking enrollment policy? You piece of shit. Next time you try to bash your way in here this goddamn Metalworks of yours should be belching fire." Leurioun tried to slam the door, but Volker quickly forced his foot in.

"Please. I understand how inconvenient this is for you, but I need your help in investigating a San d'Orian convicted murderer. There's just some things I need to know before I can continue."

Leurioun rolled his eyes. He stuck his head out of the entrance, checking both ways down the consulate lane, before ushering Volker in. "Fine, fine. Come in. Try to make this quick, I have to be up in seven hours." he waited before Volker slumped down in one of the padded San d'Orian-crafed chairs in the lobby before shutting the door. "Alright, what the hell is it that you want now..."

"Temple and Royal Knights are issued mass-produced swords upon their inductment into either branch."

"The strongest and most durable our blacksmiths can muster."

"Tell me, what is your policy on modifications made to swords?" Volker folded his hands and let his chin rest on them.

"Well..." Leurioun scratched the back of his head. "I don't ENTIRELY know the specifics, but if any physical aspects of the sword are modified, they have to be inspected again to ensure that they're safe for use under Kingdom weapons regulations. Even if it does pass, you have to reimburse the Kingdom for the price involved in creating the sword should you be honorably or dishonorably discharged from your regiment, or if it breaks and you need another. The latter doesn't happen a whole lot, but... yeah. Magical enchantments are permitted, but again subject to testing for integrity and you need to visit a certified disenchanter if you wish to return the sword."

"These are costly weapons yes?"

Leurioun shook his head. "It'd cost me four months' wages here."

"So someone who went through the trouble of something as simple as engraving his sword would be either confident in his skills and/or intended to stay in the service for a long time."

"Sounds logical to me."

Volker glanced away. _The wanted notice made no specification of Eluion's rank. This sounds odd._ "Are these inspections catalogued?"

"They'd have to be," Leurioun shrugged. "Both Knight branches have tens of thousands of people, it'd be a logistical nightmare if you didn't."

"Would it be possible for you to look up the owner of a specfic sword?"

"I guess I could. But, the most recent records are in San d'Oria of course. I'm not sure if we have anything here more recent than 5 years back, but-"

"That's good enough. I'd also like a listing of all missions they have been involved in. The blade carried a physical engraving with the word OATHKEEPER."

"Here we go..." Leurioun began to dredge through the filing cabinets in the back of the small office. Several minutes passed as he casually sorted through the lists of registered modifications and cross-referenced them with practiced ease. He paused as he slowly lifed a single folder out of the endless line of them, slipping a sheet out and eyeing it. "...last recorded mission also... well, happened to be his last. He was in the Temple Knights but had only recently been appointed to the Royal Knights. He was on a recon mission in Kolshushu with a senior Royal Knight. His name was Moleinux; his senior was known on a first-name basis as Eluion."

_That wasn't Eluion's sword then... _"How did Moleinux die?"

"Autopsy was pretty simple." Leurioun flipped through the sheets. "Gaping wound to the back caused by a long thin blade. From the length of the fatal wound, it was determined to have been dealt by a great katana."

"And then?"

"He was brought to a private clinic in Jeuno, by then his wound had literally bled him dry."

Volker raised an eyebrow. "On foot?"

"I'm assuming."

"If only one had experience in the Temple Knight branch, and he was the one wounded, then how did he manage to limp his way to Jeuno if there wasn't any other healing magic around? He wouldn't have been able to suppress the damage himself and keep moving, or just simply heal himself on the spot... and not even the most intensely-trained white mages could feed mana into a person for an entire trip like that, so there was no way that Eluion could have supported him, which means that..." Volker flinched. "...but if Blitzen were aiding Moleinux, then that's a complete contradiction of San d'Oria's statements. Please find Eluion's records. I need to see what his death is listed as."

Leurioun rolled his eyes and slid Moleniux's folder back in. He pushed that drawer in and removed another, and unveiled another dull paper envelope. "...it says that his body was never found. I can't tell you if it was before or after Moleinux bit it, sorry."

"Something's not right here..." Volker slowly pivoted around. "There was no mention of Moleinux's death anywhere in San d'Oria's bounty records; could they have known that Blitzen was possibly HELPING them?..." Volker quickly glanced over his shoulder again. "Thank you. That will be all. I think I may have an idea of what I may be looking for."

"Yeah, yeah. Shoo already." Leurioun had already slid a long, flat key into the handle of the consulate door as Volker quickly forced his way back outside.

_It may be time for a bit of negotiation,_ Volker mused as he strode quickly and calmly across the cobblestone.

* * *

Those steps were in perfect pace with another set of feet that tore down one of the residential subroads. Blitzen pivoted in his chair towards the door, with a spoon sticking out his mouth, barely turning his gaze in time to watch his front door get blasted off its hinges by a close-range fireball. He was thrown back against the wall, and he quickly scrambled across the floor in a desperate attempt to reach for his sword. As he did however, a surge of black light drowned him, causing his arm to go limp and hang lifelessly in the air. He grunted as he struggled to force himself forward, unable to shrug off the paralysis spell that had been slammed down on top of him in what seemed like a fraction of a second. 

A regally-dressed Elvaan took slow, long strides as he entered the room, dusting off his dull crimson tabard as he came to a stop halfway between his disabled target and what remained of the heavy wood door. His green eyes opened wide and he ensured his demented toothed grin was shown before he tilted his hat down. "Blitzen-Aitzen! I charge you with obstruction of justice, the dishonor of a proud nation, and above all else - the cold-blooded murder of Sir Eluion of the Phoenix Wing of the San d'Orian Royal Knights! I, Hation, will be judge, jury and hopefully executioner in the name of my slain brother!"

"Oh, no." Blitzen spat.


End file.
